


Ocean Lights

by redfoxblackfox



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Team as Family, Violence, a slightly different take on the fakes, but still the idiots we love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 13:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 86,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15220016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfoxblackfox/pseuds/redfoxblackfox
Summary: When Gavin's whole world is ripped away from him, he does the only thing he can think of. He runs.Just so happens that his path leads him directly to Achievement City, home to a crew unlike any other. With an opportunity to start afresh, Gavin intends to make the most of it - but his old life isn't willing to let him leave quite so easily.





	1. Chapter 1

He was running.

He was running through dark, dingy streets into what seemed like a labyrinth of alleyways. He didn’t have a clue where he was going - just knew that he had to get away, that he couldn’t stop otherwise they’d catch him. And then they’d take him back with them, and he couldn't’ allow that.

There were brief moments when he thought it was all over and one of the others was going to take him down, shadows in the corner of his eye or the sounds of footsteps running behind him - but surely if they’d known his location his escape would’ve have ended long ago.

The knife –

The scream –

The look of fear in the other man’s eyes –

His legs strode out faster; like running quicker would make the memories vanish faster too, his movement stealthy and silent even though he wasn’t particularly trying, purely just a second nature by now.

It was a cold night, and a quiet one, which made him even more desperate to reach the city center, for at least there he could disappear amongst the crowds easier. And then, he didn’t have a fucking clue what came next, just knew one thing, when everything else he thought he’d known had been torn apart around him he knew this, he could never go back. Not now he knew the truth –

His jaw hurt, a coppery taste of blood in his mouth, a tooth that felt looser than it did before just another reminder of what had gone down less than thirty minutes ago.

Still running, he barely had time to jump out of the way at the _screech!_ of tires that suddenly came tearing down a side alley, a motorbike hurtling past him as he planted himself up against the wall. At any other time, he would have had words for that idiotic driver, but time was of the essence and he picked up his sprint again the moment he was clear. He was getting closer - brighter lights and the noise of distant crowds - the signs of a bustling city center giving him that boost he needed, knowing that it wasn’t too much farther, that soon he would be able to stop and rest a while.

_Ahh!_ A fucking uncovered drain - not deep but enough for his ankle to twist painfully - and he cursed himself for making such an amateur mistake when he knew, number one rule when you were chasing or being chased, always stay aware of your surroundings, no matter how shitty the conditions were.

_Vrrm!_ He grounded to a halt, the small alleyway opening up onto a much larger street, traffic zooming by as they sped up to get on the highway, and he had a choice to make.

Which way to go now.

The safer route would be to head down the sidewalk to the footbridge, it would take him safely over the road and he could then cut back up on the other side to get into town. But that would take time - and no matter how empty it seemed around him and how good he was at running and disappearing into the shadows, he knew better than to underestimate _them_.

He knew, because he was one of them.

Knew what they were capable of, knew that this was what they were trained to do. To think that the thrill of a hunt used to excite him and put a special glint in his eyes now made him feel physically sick.

He had to make a choice. The vehicles sped by, lights so bright that it would easy to be blinded by them if you were a pedestrian running into traffic, let’s say. His ankle was not going to stop screaming any time soon either. But fuck, he had to go for it, crossing would save him ten minutes at least, and like he kept thinking, time - he just needed time, and so his legs began working automatically and taking steps forward towards the edge of the road where there never seemed to be a break in the traffic. He supposed, like with so many things in his life, you don’t think you just –

“Fucking asshole!” a man yelled at him, his truck breezing past just in front of his face. He’d made it to the second lane across, then waited a split second to dart to the middle just before another car almost plowed into him.

He vaulted over to the other side, an incredibly painful twinge in his ankle as he landed, a loud horn beeping with more shouts sent his way. There was a police car coming, a problem he didn’t feel like adding to his mountain, which meant he just had to go, deep breath, and just run like his life depended on it. He never knew how he made it across without getting hit, or causing a pileup, but somehow he did, and now he’d almost reached his goal.

_Bus terminal._

That would be his easiest escape if he wanted crowds and limited surveillance cameras as well as a whole host of options of where to head next. It was just at the end of the next street - a narrow road with tall buildings either side, most of them apartments to the fast food restaurants below, as old as the city itself with their slightly wonky structure. He’d spent the last four months of his life here, exploring these streets, getting to know almost every inch of the inner city.

He finally stopped running when he reached the terminal; a dome-shaped building with a glass-paned ceiling and several birds nests in the rafters, which lead for a rather marred floor beneath spotted with bird shit along with the litter left behind by travelers who had no care for the environment.

People lined every wall, couples snuggled up close together against the cool breeze, families with children running about beneath the adults' legs, and also security.

That was the next problem he was going to have to tackle. He had no money, had nothing on him other than the clothes he was wearing. He could run the risk of pick-pocketing someone who could afford it, but it would take time to scout out a mark. A lot of the buses were due to leave soon, meaning the terminal would be a great deal quieter until the next lot rolled in, not exactly the best place to be hanging out unless he made a move now.

Wary eyes analyzed the scene - flicking this way and that with experience - taking in every detail, calculating his options. There would be no sneaking onto a bus here, too many people would be able to spot him. Around the side then, where the exit road was would be best. He was on his guard as he left the greater anonymity provided inside and headed out again, just in time to see a bus pull up waiting to turn onto the main road - saw that was his best option, no cameras, and no people, and with the traffic as it was it would give him enough time to get himself situated securely.

He stood as the following bus pulled up, determined glint in his eye - been a while since he’d pulled one of these off, but at least the vehicles hadn’t changed much in the past few years with the undersides still being as jagged and old-fashioned as ever.

_Find a good spot._

He could feel the hot air radiating from the engine as he crawled underneath and the overpowering stench of oil and rubber filled his nostrils. _Up front. Good place to hold on._ Grabbing first with his hands he heaved himself up into the tight gap just behind the front wheel arch. He forced his feet to wedge in the corners of the rusted metal - ignored the increased pain that shot up from his ankle, and he shuffled until he was curled up in a small secure ball.

_You’ve done it,_ the little voice in his head whispered. He shut it down quickly, but that sense of relief was still there. The bus moved off after a few moments and the ground beneath became a grey blur, while his whole body shook and jostled with every turn and bump. He had no idea where this bus was destined for, just hoped and prayed it was in some city in some state far, far away. If not then he’d simply find another way out of the next one, carry on traveling until he was at a distance where he felt he could lay low for a while, figure out what on earth he was supposed to do now.

It felt like he merely blinked, but next thing he knew he was waking up. He grimaced. There were very few moments in life he’d ever felt as stiff, and there were no means of stretching out or going for a walk. He had no clue where he was, couldn’t see a thing besides the underside of the bus and the fast-moving road. Didn’t know how long they’d been traveling either, all he could make out was that it was now daytime and a hot one at that, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably, a hoodie and jeans definitely not approbate attire for his current situation.

There was something tight about his throat too, and it felt like his ankle had swelled up twice as big since hiding here. There was a furious cramp in his neck, but he forced himself to stop focusing on it. He’d been through worse, he had to remind himself. In the light that spilled underneath the bus, he could see the shadows of other vehicles passing by and the occasional longer one of a building, watching them as a way to pass the time, wondering what new lands he’d find when he eventually got out.

_The ocean. That’d be nice. Haven’t ever stayed in a city by the ocean before._

If he was by an ocean it also meant he’d be _far_ away from the previous city, one stuck in the middle of the country far from anything remotely sea-like. It was a nice thing to dream of, to take his mind off things, even if falling asleep wasn’t a sensible idea, he saw no faster way to make the journey go by, coupled with the fact that he was tired, and his head hurt, and he was thirsty and hungry, and there were black dots appearing in the corners of his vision…

He was awoken by a sharp jolting motion and a noise so loud it felt like his eardrums burst. He tried to open his eyes but they weren’t behaving properly, and his lungs and skin felt like they were on fire, his ankle even worse; infection was one of his least favorite things to deal with, and not good, really not good in this time and place.

“The fuck are you looking at!” a woman cried out, somewhere in front of the bus. “Suck my fucking balls!”

The bus tooted it’s horn again, and he had to grit his teeth from the intense ringing in his head.

“Come on then! Come and fucking get me!”

Either she was very drunk or very stupid. Because he doesn’t remember many cases where bus vs person have worked out very well in the past, and sure enough, like a bull ready to charge, the bus revved it’s engine and jolted forward again. This time however, it dislodged him, feet slipping out from their spot - arms wildly grabbing at the metal in an attempt to stay up; not working as fluidly as usual, his upper body strength all but gone. Before he even had a chance to right himself the driver darted the vehicle forward again, the curses growing louder and louder, loosening his grip completely. The fall felt a lot higher than it really was.

He could hear his own heavy breathing as he lay on the tarmac, too weak to push himself up. _Pathetic_ , a voice not belonging to him screamed.

_Wait. Is that sky?_

No, that couldn’t be right cause that would mean… Shit, the bus had fucking driven off leaving him lying in the middle of the road, and for some reason his dumbass couldn’t find itself to kick itself into action. That would certainly be _annoying_ , if he were to die now - cling to the bottom of a bus for God knows how long only to fall off and get run over by a car. He hadn’t a clue what he’d come down with and why it seemed to be acting so fast and vicious. At first, he’d just thought it had been his body’s way of complaining about all the stress it was suddenly put under but now he suspected something more.

He couldn’t just lie in the road all day though.

It took all too much effort to push himself into a sitting position; grateful that he’d at least landed on a quiet and empty road. Though that could also be bad news. Could mean he was far from civilization, with no chance of moving anywhere quickly.

To his surprise the drunk woman was still there. She was watching him - swaying a little, bottle in her hand, a large yellow stain down the front of her top, hair matted and greasy - and the surprise at seeing a man appear from beneath a bus was evident, almost sobered her up for a few seconds, before she leaned back to let out a bellowing laugh and pointed at him like he’d just pulled off some amazing prank. He stared a little blearily until she finally collapsed on the floor, still laughing.

Then a car honked at him.

Just the slight movement was hard. His neck felt like it had seized up, almost creaking as he turned to eye the vehicle pulled to a stop behind him, and in the back of his fuzzy mind he knew he should be making a better effort to get off the road but on the other hand he didn’t see why the driver simply couldn’t go around him. The car’s wheels worked, whereas at the moment his legs didn’t; they were equally as stiff and sore and his ankle was most definitely broken now, if it hadn’t been before.

“ _Fucking drunks!_ ” the driver yelled - eventually giving up and screeching around him throwing up a middle finger to the both of them.

The fact that he was grouping him and _the woman together_ , that actually made him feel insulted - not only because he’d never once been drunk in his life, but because she smelled - he had a sudden horrible realisation that he probably did smell, sweating in cramped conditions coupled with all the fumes wasn’t exactly the best hygiene routine, making him look like a common down and out after only a day or so; he still had no idea how long he’d been under there.

It was growing late in the day, the sun was beginning to set so he guessed it had been almost twenty-four hours.

And then, a surge of adrenaline hit him. He remembered what he had been trying to do and why he was in such a shit mess in the first place, sending a sharp stab of fear and determination through him. Breathing fast and wincing with every small movement, he staggered to his feet, unable to put any weight on his right foot, almost falling straight back down –

“Where am I?” he asked to the woman, still cackling away on the ground.

She paid no attention to him and he didn’t bother any more. He began to limp away, making it to the sidewalk for a start - picking a direction that looked hopeful, noticing that he _was_ in a city, or at least a fairly built up area, once anyway. All the buildings around him now were crumbling and derelict. The streets empty.

But there was no time for exploration. He had to keep on moving; needed to find somewhere safe so he could rest until he was lucid enough to think of a plan of action. He’d been barely thinking last night, acting purely on the need to get away from everything and reacting purely on instinct and all that he’d been taught since he was a child, but now he was in a strange city with no idea what to do next.

The concrete under his feet felt strange, like he was walking on something soft and squishy and not all that stable, the light from the setting sun only serving to disorient and stumble him. Old, red brick walls - a popular material for factories in the forties and fifties - served as a crutch for him, his whole body leaning against them heavily after every step, falling into them every so often when the world span too much, afraid that if he did fall to the ground again there would be no getting back up.

_Can’t give up now._

There was a roughness in his chest and burning in his throat that only furthered his suspicion that he’d picked up a sudden infection. That would be just his luck - for someone who had one of the best records for never getting sick - to get struck down with something now when he needed all his wits and skills more than ever. With pain and fever surging through him, he struggled on through the empty streets, unable to concentrate on anything other than putting one good foot in front of the other fucked up one.

If he had known someone had been watching him this whole time, following him, it’s uncertain what he’d have done. Most likely would have got out of there as quickly as possible - take no chances, just get out. He wouldn’t have run the risk that it could be one of them. But with every part of him slowly shutting down, he noticed nothing.

He didn’t make it very far. Not even making it to the end of the street before the last of his emergency reserves run out, his body crumpling to the floor.

As he lay there gasping for breath, there was a surge of disgust for himself, truly disappointed by how weak and pathetic he was being as he curled up like a dying dog on the street. This wasn’t him - he’d never been struck down so easily in his life by illness or enemy. Had all the fight truly abandoned him? He shut his eyes and used the last of his strength to roll onto his back, the only position where it didn’t feel like his chest was about to implode on itself.

“Hey, can you hear me buddy? You still there?”

He blinked his eyes open again, saw the silhouette of a figure leaning over him and waving a hand in front of his face. Satisfied that this was no one he knew, he closed his eyes again and waited for them to get bored and move on.

Now he’d admit he didn’t understand people all that well, not even the ones who were supposedly like him and especially not the ordinary folk whose lives had never been of concern to him, merely specks on his radar when there had only been one target in mind. He’d never cared, at least, he’d never thought he _could care_ , never understood what it meant to care, not until everything had been ripped away –

But back to the mystery man, once he realized there was nothing to gain from this interaction, he assumed he would leave him be and carry on with his day without a second thought to the riff-raff on the street.

However, the man didn’t leave, seeming increasingly anxious to get a response out of him. He tried, his throat once again burning as he worked the muscles to attempt some sort of noise, to no avail, every breath he took constricting it tighter and tighter.

He opened his eyes one more time - couldn’t make out many features, the sun was too bright and the man’s face too close. He could feel himself slipping further and further, dragged down into a beautiful darkness, somewhere he could rest. Eyes dropped shut as his entire body shook with a hacking cough, rasping and choking sounds that left his throat raw and dry.

The man was still talking to him.

He didn’t get it, whatever this man wanted he was clearly in no state to assist him and he cowered away from the noise, screwing up his face. Finally there was silence for a moment, and he assumed the man had finally given up and left him to rest here - where was he again? He supposed nothing really mattered other than getting some sleep right now. Yes, he would get a good rest and be up and at ‘em in no time.

The ground beneath him shifted, and suddenly his world was moving as he felt himself rise into the air. He tried to struggle back to his resting place - but his body was limp, arms and legs dangling uselessly and his head lolling to one side as he was moved by something, or someone.

He coughed again, nauseous, and he felt his surroundings change again suddenly as he’s laid down. This new bed was actually better, it was softer, out of the harsh sun rays and away from the stench of trash and rot. Everything still _ached_ and burned, but not enough to keep him awake any longer. The next thing he was consciously aware of is once again being moved, and he let out a moan of discontent at having his slumber disturbed.

“Not far now,” a voice said to him.

Not far until what? He couldn’t see anything, but that was because his eyes were glued shut and his senses in general felt dulled, like he’d been wrapped up in several blankets so everything was muffled. There was a feeling of traveling upwards, the way his stomach lurched unpleasantly for about half a minute, while he was sure he was going to throw up at any second and ruin the clean, fresh scent that’s coming from the new place he’s in.

“Help me with the door?”

Well, he would help with the door if he could stand up, or see it. Part of him was annoyed with this mystery person, wondering what gave them the right to take him from a perfectly fine sidewalk to this strange place - but it wasn’t all that bad, a definite care in the way he was being held and the secure grip under his arms and back, holding him closer still at the sound of a door being opened.

He could hear more voices now and assumed they’d helped the man with the door, reminding himself to thank them later. He found himself wondering what was happening, not quite able to think how he got here in the first place. Another cough racked his whole body so hard it left him gasping for air. He never had been that great at holding his breath, always been one of the tests he’d scored lowest on.

_The ocean._

He remembered something about the ocean, perhaps that was where he’d been headed, perhaps that’s where he was now. It could explain why everything felt swaying and floating as he was lowered down again onto something very, very soft. It would be exciting if he was because it would be his first time he’d ever left dry land; he had been on many a plane but that didn’t count, you were just stepping from one piece of ground to another flying piece. Kinda like Aladdin’s magic carpet, but not as cool and with less Disney songs.

Now, there was movement to his side, somebody was fiddling with his clothes. He tried to pull away from the touch, absolutely hopeless - lifting a feather would prove difficult at the moment, and whoever was so rudely manhandling him was strong, working quickly to get him out of his hoodie.

_Hey!_ He wanted to cry out, as the person finishes removing his hoodie and shirt and begins to take off his pants too.

This he was not cool with - only ever when it was for the job, and even then he did not treat it lightly. Unlike some of the others, they would go out of their way to sleep with someone before their task was over, pretty sure some even had a little competition going between them.

Now that he wasn’t wearing those dirty clothes, he could actually feel the soft fabric around him, and let out a content sigh as he sank into the softness of a mattress. Okay, maybe he’d forgive them for taking his pants, so long as they removed no more - this was better than a sidewalk, he’d give them that, marveling at how a simple bed could ease the pain in his chest and throat, his ankle too, to a point.

Unfortunately that seems to be the clothes stealer’s next focus point, fingers moving across the joint lightly, but enough to hurt, and he growled – really, like a feral dog. Surprises himself for a moment, but honestly, how terribly rude of person to be aggravating his injury. He only relaxed again once his foot was finally left alone.

He could hear the voices start up again, a lot of them - unless there was an impressionist in the room, which would be cool, he remembered going to an impressionists show once as a treat with the others, back when he’d first started out, just a little kid.

“He was what?” he heard someone say, the first sentence he’s able to make out in a while, mainly because it was said with such force.

It startled him, made him breathe in too fast, and he began to cough and choke.

_Can everybody just shut up now._ It felt like there was a fire starting up in his chest while at the same time a cold chill descended upon him, making him shiver and curl in on himself. But they wouldn’t stop talking, almost sounded like there were even more voices than before and he was able to pick up at least three or four distinct differences in pitch and accent.

“I don’t know. But what would you have me do? I couldn’t leave him. If he’s that bad we’ll send him to the hospital.” He perked up at that word, knowing that wouldn’t do at all. Didn’t these people know hospital was never an option, at least not a general one, not unless it was part of a plan - too many people to ask too many questions and not easy to get in and out of quickly, they were just a no go.

A thought crossed his mind then. That maybe this was some dumb prank gone wrong - he knew, that during the rare down times some of the guys could get bored, and unfortunately he was often the butt of the joke.

Probably cause they knew he was the only who’d take it, wouldn’t stab them in the throat for tying his shoelaces together unlike a certain someone. He tried to think back, to remember why he was here. It had little effect, his memory seemed to be fading by the second; getting worse and worse as time went on.

Time… there was a strange feeling he had though, and he quickly tried to use whatever mental power he had left to decipher it - _I had time? I need time? I’m running out of time? What time?_ It didn’t work very well, just caused a scrambled image of clocks to get stuck in his head and the imagined ticking to get mixed with the actual voices.

“Can he stay?” another was whispering. He heard the shuffling of footsteps, felt a weight press down on the bed next to him, felt the light tickle of someone’s breath by his ear. He was shivering a lot now, the constant motion sending an unpleasant rush through his veins, like he was getting stabbed by a thousand tiny needles each time.

“Careful,” someone said, and the weight was removed from his side - he could hear more talking; his ears picked up only the odd phrase here and there, but without context they made no sense.

“Can you hear me?” a man asked, voice low and soothing, close to his ear. “You’re safe here, alright. You don’t need to worry. We’re gonna make sure you’re okay - it’ll be okay.”

_Worry?_ Why would he need to worry? He never worried about anything.

“I wouldn’t bother. He’s in la-la-land.”

La-la-land? Where was that? He knew the names of nearly every major city in the country, but that one did not ring a bell. He was suspecting more and more that this was some kind of trick, maybe they’d spiked his drink with something that made him sleepy and cold, he wouldn’t put it past them, and in the back of his mind he started plotting what revenge might be had. He remembered some of his past stunts, and gave a small smile until it made his head hurt and he stopped, wincing.

“Did he just smile?” A much softer voice this time.

He wanted to roll his eyes. These people were clearly not the brightest, the only thing making him doubt it was the others, for despite everything they were some smart motherfuckers. With the last of his reserves draining away, the pull of the abyss was ever stronger - so tempting, a place where no pain could follow him. As long as he didn’t have any broken ribs because, fuck, that was a bitch even when you were sleeping.

He was pretty sure his ribs weren’t broken, would’ve noticed by now. Unless he somehow coughed them broken. That would be a first.

The voices stayed for a long moment, or they never left and he simply fell asleep. When he next becomes of his surroundings, though, it’s quiet and the room feels a great deal more humid, a steady rattling in his chest every time he breathes. His ankle feels different too, something encased over it tightly, propped up a little with another pillow.

He suddenly felt a rush of fear wave over him.

Not quite sure where it came from or why it might have happened, but some part of him was afraid. There was a constant niggle at the back of his mind, and he tried to reach it, to coax it into revealing itself and to let him see. Even if this was the sickness playing tricks, he knew better, you didn’t simply ignore an instinct like this.

_Think back_ , he told himself. _What is the last thing you remember?_

He remembered… the ocean. No. He remembered thinking about the ocean.

_That wouldn’t make you scared. Think harder._

He remembered… a drunk woman?

Yeah, that’s right. There had been a drunk woman, laughing at him. Why had she been laughing?

Behind his eyelids his eyes twitched as he tried to piece together the mess of information. She’d been laughing and pointing at him, while he’d been on the road, lying down. He could feel the rough bite of the tarmac as he hit it; how annoyed he’d been, how tired and aching. But why had he hit it? He couldn’t remember riding a motorbike or being in a car or anything, he just remembered falling and lying there. What had he fallen from then…?

The memory hit him like a freight train.

_You fucking idiot!_ His brain screamed at him. _You fucking dumb, piece of shit, stupid idiot!_

His whole body tensed up, breathing quickening. The only thought in his mind now was that he had to get out of here and fast.

He took a deep breath, and tried to open his eyes. He managed it, but not for long, the sunlight spilling into the room feeling like he was looking directly into the sun. Shit - everything felt so weak. He wouldn’t get far - if he somehow made it to his feet he’d barely make it a few steps with his ankle the way it was. He took a few moments to compose himself and gather his thoughts, trying to gauge how bad this really was, if he was in any direct danger.

As far as he could tell, these people, they posed no threat to him, more like he would be a threat to them –

And at least if he hadn’t been found yet it meant they didn’t know where he was, and come to think of it he didn’t know where he was, just knew he wasn’t _there_ \- but it was far from over and he was far from in the clear. They would never let one of their own get away. No one ever left.

Especially not Gavin.

* * *

 

 

It had taken his mother three months wages to save up for that camera.

She had worked three jobs just to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads - waitressing during the day, cleaner in the evenings, so he never got to see her until after ten usually. Her other work was one she did from home because it was work that came to her, men who would turn up at the door, paying for sex while her son was shooed away into the bathroom, kept surprisingly in the dark for a long time about what his mother was actually doing all that time.

They had been extremely close, a strong and loving bond, the two of them against the world.

Gavin remembered how she always tried to make it seem like everything was fine and that their lives were just as normal as every other family - so when his sixth birthday came, she had been determined to get him what he wanted, a small camera where you had to roll the wheel to take another picture, cheap and cheerful but nevertheless expensive for them.

Money was simply not something they could ever spare lightly, so it had taken the woman saving a few pennies here and there each day in order to get her son his present.

What had she given up in life to raise him? It was a question he had found himself asking many times, but one that could never be answered.

The man who had killed his mother made sure of that.

It hadn’t been too long after his sixth birthday, he’d been learning about the planets in school - been sitting on their bed, an array of crayons laid out before him as he colored in the circular blobs that represented the solar system. Knowing as he had by then about his mother’s other strange side job, the one where men he’d never seen before came so they could fall on top of his mother, he thought maybe that was why she was in a bit of a bad mood some nights - from what he had briefly seen before his mother had ushered him back into the bathroom, it hadn’t looked that fun.

_That night._

There had been a knock on the door, and when she came out of the bathroom Gavin could tell his mother wasn’t expecting anyone, that she was getting ready to slam the door shut again if it was the landlord, marching up, peeking through the spy hole with her hands on her hips, shouting then at someone to ‘ _fuck off_ ’, telling them she’d call the police and say he was harassing her if they didn’t leave.

Whoever it was had left them alone - that first time anyway, and his mother had said it was nobody when he’d asked about it.

That was the first call, Gavin always thought now - the first of three that changed his life forever.

The second unexpected visit had come less than a week later, right in the middle of the two of them sitting on the bed eating a delicious meal of Doritos and toast while they watched cartoons on the TV. His mother had sighed and rolled her eyes, telling Gavin to carry on watching the TV - though it wasn’t like he couldn’t see anything, the bed was literally right by the door anyway.

Gavin had watched out of the corner of his eye as his mother opened the door a crack this time. Obviously not as angered by this visitor as the last one, and he strained to hear what was being said. They spoke for a very long time, all too quiet for him. When his mother had finally decided to open the door fully, his eyes had widened. The person standing in the doorway immediately captured his attention - a man like none he’d ever seen before. Rich. He knew what folk around their parts looked like, and it was nothing like the way this man looked.

He was dressed in a suit for starters. Not even his teachers at school wore suits and they were the richest people Gavin knew of, unless you counted all the people on the TV like important people on the news - he didn’t think this man was from the news, because his mom always said they were ‘ _arseholes_ ’ who ‘ _can’t be fucking trusted_ ’ but she was letting this man in.

The first thing the man did was look to Gavin.

Green eyes met his own.

Green eyes that, in less than a second - the moment they saw him in fact, softened and sparkled with excitement. The man had stepped forward, and smiled at him.

And for some explained reason Gavin had felt a thrill of excitement as the man came closer until he perched on the very edge of the bed. He’d sent a glance his mother’s way, but while not looking entirely happy, she nodded to him that everything was alright. Gavin had taken another bite out of his toast, and chewed slowly - inspecting the man very carefully, more fascinated than anything.

The man had watched Gavin watching him for a time. He seemed a little bit at a loss - Gavin remembered seeing his mouth open and close several times before he actually spoke a word, pointing to the TV.

“You like cartoons?” he had asked.

The first time Gavin heard him talk shocked him a little. Not only was he dressed like a very rich person, but now he finds out he speaks completely different as well, with an accent Gavin had never heard before, and wasn’t sure if he thought it was cool or funny. In his six-year-old mind it had seemed fitting - that this man with the cool clothes and slicked back hair should have a voice to match. He had nodded, in answer to the question. He was hardly interested in watching the TV at that moment, though.

The man shuffled a little further onto the bed and leaned his head down.

“My name’s Radley,” he said. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Gavin,” Gavin replied.

“Cool, that’s a great name. Gavin. Yeah. You look like a Gavin.”

He smiled again. Gavin did too. The sound of his mother clearing her throat broke the heavy silence and the man blinked, shaking his head a little as he stood up.

“I’ve gotta go now but I’d like to see you again, Gavin. Tomorrow. If that’s okay with you?”

Gavin looked to his mum. She didn’t give him any indication one way or the other. He’d looked up at Radley, and he’d trusted him.

“Okay,” he agreed.

The man had gathered himself, regarding Gavin with one last searching gaze before walking back to the door. He and Gavin’s mother had shared a look in silence, then stepped outside for a brief moment. When she returned, she immediately lay back down on the bed and gathered the boy in her arms - holding him tighter than normal, brushing a few kisses on the top of his head.

He had looked back at her. “Who was that?”

She didn’t reply for a very long time, just continued to hold him close. Eventually, she inhaled deeply.

“Your father.”

“Oh.” He’d never really considered the possibility that he had a father as well as a mother. It had only ever been the two of them. “Do you like him?”

“I don’t know him.”

“But he’s coming back?”

A pause. “I doubt it.”

He supposed she was kind of right, because his father never did return that next night, or the next.

On the third night, however, someone else did.

_Bang! Bang! Crash!_ It echoed through the room like thunder. It woke him up with a start.

_First time you were ever truly terrified._

His mother had been so quick to _react_ , pulling from a ferocious protective instinct only a parent could possess. She’d bundled him up, practically throwing him into the bathroom and locking it shut.

He remembered the fear growing because she always told him never to lock the door because it would get jammed and you’d be stuck. He remembered the sounds - shouts and cries and screams, his mother’s and another’s - and the thuds and crashes. He’d sat cowered with his back against the tub; stared unblinkingly at the door and felt his heart pound rapidly in his chest. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t stopped staring at that door, not even after everything had gone eerily quiet.

He’d sat in that little bathroom for a whole day while his mother lay dead on the floor next door. He’d never been given the full details, but he knew she’d been stabbed. That she was stone cold by the time Radley finally returned. All these years later, he'd never seen a man break down a door so desperately.

_He was too late._

“Don’t look, little man,” Radley had said. His voice had trembled a little, as he pulled the small boy tightly into his arms and buried him into his chest. Gavin had done as he’d said, his green eyes spilling silent rivers into the man’s shirt. Gavin hadn’t spoken a word as they walked out of the house and he was put in a car - didn’t take in much of anything until Radley parked up somewhere very big and loud and strange. He’d never seen airplanes so close up before.

“Gavin,” Radley has said, softly. He’d swallowed, eyes red and raw, and held out the small object, placing it in the tiny hand.

Gavin stared down. His camera.

“I saw you with it last time and I just… I dunno,” the man cut off, watching as the six-year-old slowly turned the camera over and over in his hands.

He placed a gentle hand on Gavin’s shoulder, green eyes meeting green once again. “Come on, let’s go.”

* * *

 

The sunlight broke through the curtains and seeped into his dreams. His memories of a time so very long ago - still as painful to this day, still as vivid and real as ever, they blurred into a bright endless white until his eyes pried open, the sun dazzling him for a second, everything around seeming to sparkle for a while. His throat was still dry, an intense grating feel every time he drew breath, and his head still felt heavy and fuzzy - but he was better than before, lucid enough to actually remember what had happened before.

He was almost surprised he hadn’t been found yet, with his runaway hardly going exactly to plan. Ending up in a mystery city with complete strangers hadn’t been on his list of to-dos, an event that he was still struggling to wrap around his head.

As far as he could tell these people meant well, due to the fact he felt like he was healing up, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to stick around any longer than needed, quite the opposite, if these were just good samaritans then they deserved to have him out of their lives as soon as possible; oblivious to the sort of person they’d been letting sleep in their bed.

By his side, he suddenly became aware of someone in the opposite corner, rummaging away. The person stood up straight after a moment, and glanced Gavin’s way, who met his startled gaze with sleep-filled eyes. He took a step back when he saw Gavin was awake but then, quickly, another few forward again. He was a small man with a shaved head and short beard. Gavin’s dumb brain tried telling him that this man was probably a wrestler and once he got the idea in his head he couldn’t get rid of it.

He was still out of it, not so much that he was completely loopy but enough that he couldn’t stop himself from slipping; feeling the hot pull of a fever, gnawing away at his senses. There was a look in the stranger’s face that he couldn’t place, and then again his dumb brain came up with the thought that maybe this wrestler wanted a match with him. He tried to check the man’s eyes to see if that was true, staring for an unnaturally long moment.

“Sorry,” the stranger mumbled. Honestly he looked more uncomfortable than rowdy.

_Think it’s safe._ Right now, there wasn’t much fight in him. Any other day, he would take this wrestler man out in less than five seconds. He’d just like to see him try. He almost said just so but the moment he took in a larger breath he was left coughing and spluttering, eyes watering.

The man’s face fell into a worried expression - not a very wrestler-like look at all. Gavin thought he could do with some tips, started thinking back on all the episodes of RAW he and the guys had watched, then remembered he didn’t want to think about them, about any of it.

He looked around instead. It was actually a fairly interesting room now you mentioned it.

“I’ll get some more water,” the wrestler hurriedly said. Only then did Gavin realize he was still coughing and he frowned angrily at the stupid barking sound - wondering if the wrestler was just leaving because he didn’t want to catch whatever Gavin had. He looked around the room again, at the posters lining the walls, shelves filled with various clutter and - what was most strange or perhaps terrifying - a giant yellow stuffed dog staring directly at him from the end of the bed. At least he assumed it was stuffed, glaring at it some more, considering the possibility that it may just be very well-trained and was guarding him… or was another wrestler in disguise.

He passed out before he could come to a final conclusion.

* * *

 

 

Whatever city he’d landed up in, it was far louder and denser than the last one, like a jungle of concrete towers and glass pillars, squared together like Tetris blocks. There was a constant buzz of traffic, of just noise in general. Construction was going on nearby, just out of his view, but the sounds of cranes, drills, hammers and workmen were unmistakable.

This was the first time since he’d been brought here that he was able to push himself up in bed a bit more to get a decent view out of the window. Before that an assortment of trinkets lined up on the window sill had been in his way, now he could at least sit up high enough that he could look up at the taller buildings that surrounded this one. He figured he must be pretty high up himself. Planes tended to sound a lot closer than road traffic, flying overhead rhythmically. They were what had woken him this time actually, the best he’d felt, head clear, able to breathe easier. He wondered how long he’d been sleeping.

The last person he had a clear memory of had been that wrestler guy, although he was pretty sure now he hadn’t been a wrestler, just a muscular man.

It had been all quiet in the apartment since he’d woken, the only sounds coming from a couple floors below him, so when there was suddenly a figure poking it’s head around the door he was slightly startled.

“Aww, you’re awake,” the newcomer whispered.

He quickly made his way over to Gavin. So fast that Gavin had to blink a few times, focus blurring for a couple seconds. The stranger was now sat on the floor - large brown, almost black eyes staring up at him, looking him over like he was incredibly fascinating. Gavin was reminded of the young greyhound that would sit and watch him eat during his last job. Quickly pushed that thought away, knowing he couldn’t linger on such things otherwise they would eat away at him until there was nothing left.

He concentrated on this mystery person instead, who was still watching Gavin as though he were about to put on some form of entertainment - maybe he was waiting for him to speak. He swallowed a few times and opened his mouth –

But the moment he tried to use his vocal chords, a horrible burning sparked through his throat, like he’d had an electric rod jammed down it. He held back the cough he could feel building, not wanting to aggravate the pain any more. He supposed he’d have to give it a little while longer before speaking, lest he slow down the healing process.

_You_ , he focused all his attention on the stranger. _Who are you?_

“Uhh… are you okay?” The head tilted to one side. Fairly dark skin, those even darker eyes, and jet black hair, looked a bit like a guy who’d bet Gavin two hundred euros to beat him in a free-running race - back when he’d been in Paris. Nice city, especially when you’ve got an extra two hundred in your pocket. Gavin shook himself, once again having to push such memories away. He’d made his decision and he was going _to_ _stick_ to it - _you want nothing to do with that life._

_Who’re you?_ he tried to ask again, by narrowing his eyes to the newcomer. Wondered just how long he was planning on staying, if all he was going to do was watch Gavin.

The stranger grinned, he looked young, not much more than a boy, but Gavin knew looks could be deceiving. He was still on the floor - sat like a dog waiting for its master to get out of bed and take it for a walk, but all Gavin could manage right now was to lift himself up a little further.

“I’m Alfredo,” the boy finally introduced. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

Gavin nodded, but he was frowning.

_Knowing your name hasn’t really answered my question - just who the hell are you?_ His disgruntled expression seemed to have little effect.

The boy, still grinning, clambered up onto the chair next to the bed, and kneeled by eagerly. “Do you wanna do something fun?”

_What?_

“You must be hella bored being stuck in bed,” Alfredo explained. “I know I get bored when I’m left on my own with nothing to do for too long. Plus I lost my room. Cause you’re in it - I mean I don’t mind, you need it more than me right now, but yeah.”

_So you’re the owner of this room? Someone else who lives here then_ , Gavin thought. At least three guys, maybe more if he remembered all the different voices correctly, none of them looking remotely related to each other. Most likely they were friends, maybe work buddies, if they were close enough to share an apartment. He wondered what on earth their jobs were for taking in a complete stranger to be something they would ever consider doing without knowing the first thing about him.

Although Gavin had given him no response thus far, Alfredo’s face lit up.

“What d’you think of my room? Do you like it?” he asked, eagerly.

Gavin glanced about the place. Nothing much had changed since he’d first observed it, except maybe the colors popping out a bit more now his mind was less hazy. It was nice, he supposed, better than the plain white walls he was used to. He gave a small nod towards Alfredo.

The boy grinned, wide and excited, and Gavin couldn’t help the strange feeling he got in his chest, an odd sensation going through him. He didn’t know anything about this guy, but he just felt _good,_ had something about him that for once didn’t make Gavin feel like he needed to be on guard, and that was a very _rare_ occurrence. He was unable to identify exactly what it was.

“D’you want anything to eat or drink?” Alfredo asked.

_Yeah, something that won’t kill my throat_ , Gavin thought, but he shook his head ‘no’. _I wonder how long you’re planning to stick around?_

“Don’t trust anything Lindsay cooks,” Alfredo continued. “I love her but the one time she made a meal for everybody we were all stuck with food poisoning for three days! Some people should just stay away from the kitchen, y’know?”

_Lindsay? Who is this Lindsay?_ Lindsay sounded like a woman’s name and Gavin was pretty sure he had yet to meet any women so that meant, one, two, three, four - there were at least four people living here. He was growing more intrigued by the minute. But right now, Alfredo was the only one around to get answers out of. Or at least someone he could try and study - the boy appeared an open book as he gazed at Gavin like he was the most exciting exhibit at the zoo, and he didn’t seem to view him with any distaste or distrust, a rather kind stance to take seeing as Gavin was literally a stranger sleeping in his room.

“You don’t talk much, huh?” Gavin tried to gesture to his throat but he was pretty sure it was useless. Alfredo didn’t seem to take much offense either way.

“I can go if you want,” he said, sincerely. “If you want me to go just let me know.”

Gavin shrugged. Perhaps he still didn’t know quite what to make of him, but he was nice enough company. At least he could provide some form of distraction for the time being. It had been so long when he’d spent time in the company of another, for purely no reason another than for the company, not having to hide behind every word and smile, for there was no ulterior motive he was carrying. The only person he’d ever really truly spent honest time with had been his father. But the man was dead nearly ten years now so the last decade had been one to share with nobody.

But soon - soon he’d finally be able to live his own life. In a way he already was, seeing as being here with a stranger hadn’t been part of their plans for him, and he felt the slightest bit of happiness at the thought.

As far as living his own life went, honestly he didn’t have much of a clue. He’d been living one way and one way only since he was a child, hadn’t even dreamt of anything else - you didn’t leave a life like that so there had been no point. But now, he had. Gavin would have to work hard to remember what it was like to be a part of the normal world again, he knew, maybe he’d never truly find his way but it was best option. Hopefully he’d get far enough away that they’d never find him.

That was still his main worry. He needed to be on the move again as soon as possible, because one failed coach trip wasn’t going to be enough, one day’s worth of running was nothing, not with those hound-dogs on his trail.

He wondered who was the most pissed off with him. Wondered if they were so angry that they’d just kill him the moment they set eyes on him. Honestly hadn’t a clue what would happen if they caught him, because he had been the first, the first to ever run.

He turned back to watching the boy; he’d given up on making conversation, leaning over the back of his chair to search for something in a drawer. His vigorous searching was shaking the glass of water on top, Gavin eyeing it very carefully, not too keen on having a face fall of water. Still, it might do him some good. He hasn’t had a shower since who-knows-when, and with hiding under a bus for a whole day, he was pretty sure he’d been cleaner in his life, and a shower was definitely something he was going to have to seek out at some point.

At this rate they’d be able to track him down purely by scent. He tried to think of the best way to indicate he wanted to go to the bathroom. Now realizing that he needed to go for other, perhaps more urgent, matters.

“I found it!” Alfredo said excitedly, holding up something proudly.

Now he rushed away, back out of the room at the speed of light - loud footsteps on hard floors, Gavin able to track his movements around the apartment until he returned. He had two things now, one a cylindrical grey battery and the other a fairly old looking camera. It was digital - though Gavin guessed it dated pre-2000s.

He’d always been fond of technology, both the old and new - the only interest he could possibly consider a hobby. The only piece of his first life he’d carried into his next.

Nice - it still worked, he saw. Alfredo had fiddled around a bit, before turning it on and inspecting the tiny screen. He didn’t look very impressed, but Gavin speculated at how it would have been viewed twenty years ago, innovative and ground-breaking, marveled as he often did at how far they’d come in such as short span of time.

Alfredo dismissed the camera almost instantly. Sat it on top of the drawers amongst a host of other items. They both perked up at the sound of a door opening and closing, two additional voices that Gavin was unsure if he’d heard before and who had Alfredo looking between Gavin and the bedroom door, an excited anticipation on his face. After a moment the door pushed open, and a curly-headed man appeared there. 

“Jesus fuck, Fredo, what did Jack tell you about coming in here?” he declared, the moment he set eyes on them.

The man stalked forward with a glare, grabbing the boy around the back of his neck. The second he touched him however, Alfredo burst out laughing.

“Goddammit, you two,” another voice said. “Are you trying to freak him out on purpose?”

It was the not-wrestler man from before, stood by unimpressed while Alfredo and the curly haired man engaged in some form of tickle war. He marched over after a moment and pulled the two apart.

“But look, he’s better now! And I asked him if he wanted me to go and he said it’s fine!”

“Yeah, but Jack told you not to be in here in the first place,” the short man reminded him, and Alfredo paused.

“Sorry,” he said, quite genuinely.

The smaller man smiled. He’d looked grumpy and stoic, observing the two, but now his eyes were sparkling and he seemed to share a slightly more pent-up version of Alfredo’s excitement. He was looking at the boy with a particular fondness that Gavin had previously never seen with guys their age - rarely had anyone look at him like that - his own father, hardly, that relationship growing more and more… complicated, as the years had gone by.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. He grinned wider, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he stretched out a hand to ruffle the dark hair. Alfredo let out a small scream and darted off the chair onto the floor, crawling away until he was somewhere at the bottom of the bed.

“I’ll take this then,” the curly haired man commented, as he sat in the chair.

He smiled at Gavin.

“Sorry, should have done this first, I’m Michael, this is Jeremy and he’s probably told you but the little schmuck down there is Fredo. Can we finally know your name too?” he asked, a warm friendliness to his voice.

“Um, he doesn’t talk,” Alfredo spoke up before he could reply. “I think his voice broke. Maybe he coughed it out or something.”

“Huh, shouldn’t have lost your voice from bronchitis,” Michael pointed out. So that was what had knocked him down, least now he knew.

“Let Jack know,” Jeremy said. “Could be something else.”

“I know what we can do! We can get him to write down some stuff like why he was –“

“ _Fredo._ ”

Gavin wondered where he’d been going with that. Also why Jeremy and Michael had been so quick to shut him down and send him a warning look that kept him from saying anything else. Michael in particular, however, seemed to take to the writing idea.

Jeremy had him nod his head to agree to it. Gavin didn’t see what harm it could do. At least if he was writing he’d have an excuse - wouldn’t have to give any long or detailed answers to their questions, and he figured he owed them a little bit of information about this stranger they’d so kindly taken in.

But first he had to go to the bathroom. Really, it had been quite funny, to see their expressions - looking down at the paper they’d given him, just seeing the word ‘toilet’ in very shaky handwriting. Jeremy and Michael had jumped into action immediately.

It was difficult going. The two men had to grab an arm each, taking almost all his weight, Gavin hopping weakly in between them. Alfredo had bolted ahead and opened the necessary doors as wide as they would go, and then stood by, just in case Gavin had decided now would be a good time to pass out.

Luckily they had made it.

They’d thankfully left him alone while he relieved himself although the door was ajar. He’d literally only had to go next door to get to the bathroom but with all the effort he hadn’t really taken much in. There’d been another door directly opposite, and the hallway had gone on for some distance, and there had been a bright sunlight shining from the other direction - indicating a larger space he decided to inspect on the way back. Didn’t really see much, though. There clearly was a big area but it was hidden from view by Alfredo unwittingly standing there and blocking his sight.

“Well, it’s good we got that over with,” Jeremy said once they got him back to the bed, and Michael nodded, grinning.

“You’ve saved Jack from doing extra laundry,” he replied. “And I’m sure you prefer it this way too.”

He took a seat in the chair again, handing Gavin the pen and notebook while he propped up the pillows some more. Jeremy sat down at the end of the bed; threw the giant stuffed dog at Alfredo on the floor, who leapt on it as if it were a beanbag.

“So I guess name would be the best place to start,” Michael continued. “Unless you want anything else. Jack said if you were hungry soup would be best, but they’re still out shopping now.”

Gavin shook his head. He’d last.

“Cool… so uh, what do we call you then?”

Gavin gripped the pen in his hand and touched the nib to the paper.

“Is everything all right?” Michael asked, when he still hadn’t written anything after a minute. “You don’t have to be nervous or scared or anything. We’re not that bad - we don’t bite. Hey, maybe if you knew a bit more about us, there’s us three who live here, then Ryan, Jack, and Geoff - Geoff’s the one who brought you here - and then there’s Lindsay. If she comes in here just scream and we’ll tranquillize her for you.”

“You really think that’s going to make him feel any safer with us?” Jeremy asked.

“She’s my wife. I’m _allowed._ ” Michael gave him a funny look, eyebrows raised and eyes narrowed. “Do you dare imply she is not the Queen of Chaos?” Jeremy raised his hands defensively.

“Alright, just thought he didn’t need to know that yet,” he said, looking to Gavin. “But honestly, she does come with her own warning label!”

“But she just wants to see you recovered, we all do. That’s all we want,” Michael informed him, and waited by expectantly for Gavin to write. Still; there was something holding him back - he hadn’t thought it would be such a big deal, letting these people know some details about him. It was just a normal everyday question. And yet, when he tried to bring himself to write down anything, it felt like there was an invisible chain pulling on his wrist. It was stupid, but it didn’t make it any less real; letting these guys know his name would let them that bit closer, and he didn’t want these guys getting any closer. He was quite happy to keep them at a distance until he left.

In the end, he found he just couldn’t write, couldn’t write a fucking word. He looked to Michael and shook his head.

“Okay,” he replied, voice gentle but sincere. “No one’s forcing you to talk.”

“Yeah, cause he can’t speak like Black Bolt!” Alfredo grinned, and fought with the stuffed dog by throwing a few punches it’s way before scooting closer to the bed and leaning on Michael’s legs to study Gavin some more. “Maybe he’s a superhero too. He could join us. He’d be the powers guy.”

“I think you’ll find I already fill that role,” Jeremy said, puffing his chest up.

Alfredo grinned cheekily. “No, that’s your boyfriend.” He ducked as Jeremy threw something at him and looked up at Gavin. “Why don’t you wanna say nothing?”

“Leave it.” Michael was being very generous, it was actually quite confusing, for Gavin had assumed that by setting a firm boundary now they would cut him off, perhaps want him gone - it really wasn’t anything personal, it was just what was best for all of them.

He’d be gone before they knew it. And in case the others did trace him here, at least they could honestly say they knew nothing.

“Sorry,” Alfredo said again, quietly. “Oh, I got something to show you… wait here.”

He ran out of the room, Gavin hearing him take a similar route to the one he had earlier, returning with the same item he’d been messing around with, placing the camera into Michael’s lap with a grin.

“See, Ryan told you you could do it,” Jeremy said warmly, while Michael picked it up.

“It looks exactly the same to me.”

“That’s cause it was only broken inside. On the outside it looked fine. And then I worked out the last part, it just needed a different kind of battery… and that’s why I came in here,” Alfredo admitted, smirking at the two sheepishly. “And then I saw he was awake for real. And no one else was here so I didn’t want to just leave… that wouldn’t have been very nice. He’s our guest, that’s what Geoff said. And I guess I was too, once - and all of you were real nice to me. I just wanted to do the same, so I stayed until you got back so he wouldn’t be… lonely. I guess.”

There was an oddly serious note in his voice. It made something stir in Gavin’s chest; it resonated with a part of him he’d so often dismissed in the past.

“I know you only ever do what you think’s right,” Michael said, softly. “And of all the faces to wake up to, yours is the best. Imagine if he’d woken up and Ryan had been in here, think how scary that would be. I mean no offense, Jeremy.”

“Yeah, well some of us choose to wake up to that face every morning,” Jeremy chuckled. “Well, boys, maybe it’s best if we leave er…” _Gavin_. “If we just give him some time?”

Alfredo leaped up and grabbed Jeremy by the arm, pulling him away. “Okay! You have to come and watch this triple kill I got last night. I didn’t even see that the last guy. Wish I was that good in real life, like… okay, okay - _what?_ \- he’s not even listening –”

“Sorry. He gets a little too excited whenever we’ve got people around,” Michael commented, a tad too eager to speak over the fading conversation. “Get some more sleep… things are always better after a good sleep. Right. Cool. Good.”

_They’re good people_ , Gavin thought. Simply witnessing that short interaction between the three of them; seeing them talk, laugh and tease one another. No judgment, no malice, just easy going companionship, and it made Gavin’s decision feel quite justified, that it wasn’t right for him to stay around good people like this. _You’ll bring them nothing but bad luck._

He waited for Michael to leave. When he had, Gavin pulled himself over to the window. It was awkward going; a precarious maneuver where he had to keep his injured foot at the same angle - but eventually he was where he wanted to be. He could see now, see the view in its full glory. An endless, bustling, glistening city. But further - if he moved so the sun didn’t blind him, a vast ocean shimmered like gold dust in the distance, and Gavin held onto the hope that it was a sign good things were to come.

* * *

 

 

It felt good to wipe off the dirt, and the grease, and the sweat. The clothes he'd worn, now equally disgusting, would need to be thrown in the wash straight away. That was how these days always went, and he wouldn’t have them any other way, coming back exhausted but _fulfilled_ , knowing that for one day at least he was helping keep some kids off the streets. He grabbed his helmet and left it on the shelf. That was one of the best things, having their accommodation set up as it was, as it meant they had access to their own private garage - no worries about leaving stuff lying around.

Still, Jeremy liked to keep the place organized and clean. The majority of the vehicles were his own, therefore he spent a lot of time down here. Like how Ryan and Fredo could spend hours messing about with computer parts, he could spend just as long with his girls. Treat them right and they’d treat you right, that’s what his Pop had always said.

He headed up in the elevator. He wasn’t quite sure who was at home, knew Lindsay and Michael were spending the day in, and Jack and Fredo had had a job earlier that day down in South Quincy. He thought of Ryan - as he so often did, both when the man was with him and when they were apart - his boyfriend still having a bit of a time adjusting to their unplanned guest, being absent from the apartment more frequently. It’d been three days since Jeremy and the boys had tried to communicate with him, and spectacularly failed, but since then his health had definitely improved.

Jeremy had wondered if maybe he didn’t speak English very well. The city was hardly short on immigrants and the numbers only grew each year. Jeremy himself had grown up in a street that sported at least two dozen nationalities, and it was the same in almost every neighborhood downtown.

But that theory didn’t fit right, for him.

Reaching the top, he stepped out and walked the short distance to their apartment door, already knowing Jack had returned by the sweet smell of chili seeping under the doorway. They took it in turns to cook, if they didn’t order in, and that was Jack’s specialty. Things must have gone well in Quincy, then. Another successful job. They’d been on an incredible run recently even though they’d never taken on so much work.

Food. No matter how long or stressful the day, a good meal could always put him in the best of moods. Today Jack was wearing a Santa’s elf apron, the only one who ever bothered with one, and he smiled warmly as Jeremy joined him. Aching all over, he pulled off his shirt and pants and chucked them straight in the laundry room, grabbing some clean clothes from on top of the dryer.

The shared bathroom was currently occupied but he figured he may as well get partly clean in the meantime. The door to his and Ryan’s bedroom was open, and there was no sign that the older man was home. Jack handed a plate of naan bread to him and Jeremy noticed some dark bruises on both his arms, a mottled patchwork of purples and yellows. Clearly things had needed to get a little rough-handed today.

Jack saw him frowning, and brushed off his concern with a smile. In fact, Jeremy even got the impression there was a funny story behind them. Still never stopped him worrying about him, or any of them, no matter how hardened and experienced they were now.

“So,” Jack said, putting some more bread in the oven. “How’d today go?”

Jeremy smiled, thinking back over the day’s events.

“Had more kids than ever,” he replied, resting a weary head on one hand, leaning on the counter top - lazily shoving the food into his mouth. “Gets super hard to keep track of them.”

“But it was good?”

“Yeah, the best. Wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Motocross had been something Jeremy had found a passion for as a kid. He’d carried that passion through to adulthood, and when the opportunity came up a few months back, to help teach some of the inner city kids the sport, he’d jumped at the chance. Others might think it mad for a small group of guys to be in charge of twice as many kids on little bikes, but honestly they’d never had any major problems. This kids just wanted to learn and have fun, a small break from whatever shit they had going on at home.

“What about you and Fredo?” he asked. “Go how you expected it?”

“Yeah, the actual job went fine. I just let Fredo do his thing, mainly,” Jack replied. “Believe it or not these came from a fucking monkey. We were heading out and from nowhere it just grabbed onto me and wouldn’t let go.”

Jeremy’s tilted his head with a bemused smile, letting out a shocked bark of laughter, and Jack chuckled back at him.

“It’s Quincy market,” he said, referring to what was more of an infamous black market than food produce kind. “I’m not even surprised by what I see down there any more. The hardest part was convincing Fredo that no, we couldn’t keep it as pet.”

Jeremy laughed. Never a dull moment in this city, he’d give it that. Never a dull moment.

“Did you tell him about the monkey?” Alfredo came bounding into the kitchen, and snatched some of the bread off his plate. He’d just got out of the shower, hair slightly damp and smelling of citrus.

“Yeah, told him what an asshole it was,” Jack said, pausing - darted a glance at the two - then smiled. “You shouldn’t be walking on that foot.”

“Are you gonna eat with us?” Alfredo asked. He didn’t seem the slightest bit taken aback that their guest had just randomly walked into the room. On the other hand, Jeremy was a little speechless, surprised that a man who didn’t talk, who they knew nothing about, who they were blindly trusting, who looked about ready to run at any moment, was now just standing there watching them. Jeremy hadn’t even seen him since that other day. “Jack and I picked up some more soup… unless you wanted chili too but that might not be good if you’re still coughing, I don’t really know how that works. Or we could give you a tour of the place? Yeah, that’d be cool, wouldn’t it?”

The man blinked. Jeremy didn’t know what he’d been expecting to walk out to, but it probably hadn’t been this barrage of excitement.

“Maybe just describe it to him, Fredo,” Jack was quick to jump in, pulling out a seat for the man. “Get off that foot.”

“But that’s not as _fun_.”

“Tough,” Jack said, firmly. “I’m sure you can make it entertaining enough, and food’s gonna be ready soon anyway. That okay with you?”

He directed the question to the man who’d limped slowly over to the chair; Jeremy was certain he’d never seen a man move so quietly. At the shake of the dark blond head it made Jeremy sure that understanding the language was not the issue here. He didn’t know what to make of this guy, was extremely curious at best.

Not like Alfredo. He seemed thrilled, happy to finally spend some time with the man who’d taken over his room, jumping to sit on the table, ignoring Jack when he complained.

“Okay, well, you know me,” he began. “And you know where my room is. My old one anyway, my new one’s in here.”

“He’s taken over the couch,” Jack mentioned, adding the final few herbs to the steaming pot. There was a funny, slightly hesitant look the silent man gave - turning to the see the main living room, something tense in the way he held himself. Or maybe, Jeremy was just imagining things.

“Yeah, so as you can see, the kitchen and living room are just this one big, massive, space which is real awesome cause you’ve just got the window that goes all the way round that side - unless you’re scared of heights. Jeremy’s scared of heights. He’s alright in here though, just don’t make him stand right by the window for too long.”

“You giving him the grand tour, Fredo?” Michael asked as he entered the room, Lindsay in tow.

They looked as if they’d just woken from a nap. Michael’s hair was tousled, and Lindsay’s sat in a messy ponytail - but they both smiled at the man. Though Jeremy could see they were surprised too.

A big grin pulled at Alfredo’s lips.

“More a grand talk than grand tour,” he replied. “This lovely lady here with Michael, by the way, is Lindsay. And she’s the insane one Michael told you about.”

Lindsay nodded her head in agreement. There was a certain rule, about the insane thing - she would never claim to be insane herself but never denied or complained when the guys said she was. In turn, Michael, her ever-loving husband, called her insane and a freak more than any of them, although they all had permission. But be there anyone outside of their circle who dared insult their chaos queen, boy there’d be hell to pay. And southern hospitality to the core, the first thing she did was walk over and shake the man’s hand.

Still. His expression barely changed, though he accepted the hand graciously enough.

“Glad to finally meet you. I thought we were all banned from going in your room but _apparently_ that just applied to me.”

“And you’re surprised because?” Michael snorted. “Anyway it was an accident we ended up in there.”

“Yeah, I was just looking for a battery and I didn’t mean to wake him or nothing,” Alfredo said.

“And me and Jeremy only ended up in there cause _he_ was in there and we were telling him to get out.”

“And then you ended up staying in there,” Jack added, but he wasn’t really annoyed.

Jeremy didn’t mention the time the man had caught him trying to find a shirt he was sure Fredo had taken. Hell, the guy had probably been too out of it to even remember him.

“Lindsay and Michael are married so they argue a lot,” Alfredo continued, eyeing the kitchen eagerly as he saw Jack begin to plate up. “Their room’s on the same side as yours… I mean mine, whatever, they’re at the other end near the door which is good cause they both snore. Jack and Geoff share a room that’s opposite them, but they’re not married and they don’t sleep in the same bed… their room’s the biggest cause they’re the mom and dad, like, metaphorically speaking.”

The man nodded slowly. He _was_ taking everything in, Jeremy could tell he was actually paying close attention.

“Is the fucking food ready yet?” Jeremy couldn’t help asking. Suddenly everything felt too crowded, all of them surrounding this man, who offered nothing back in return. Jack gave him a glare, and he deserved it. Couldn’t help it. He tended to turn impatient and snappy when he felt anxious.

“Here you are, your highness,” Jack said, handing him his plate. “This little grumpy troll is Jeremy. Jeremy’s the one who rudely interrupted you and Fredo the other day. Right now he’s dirty and he smells and he doesn’t know how to wait five seconds for food I’ve cooked for him.”

“You know he’d wait all night for a meal you’ve cooked, Jack, remember Jeremy said you’re the reason he started going to the gym more,” Alfredo offered, his natural instinct to diffuse any minor quarrels coming in to play.

Jack’s lips twitched again.

When Jeremy offered his best apologetic puppy-dog face, he rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Come and get it people,” he said. To the silent man he offered two options, chicken and mushroom soup or a plate of the chili. After a moment’s thought, the man opted for the chili.

“Swelling had gone down when I checked earlier, but don’t force anything if it hurts too much,” Jack reminded him, and the man nodded, hesitantly picking up a knife and fork.

Now that they were all sitting around the table eating like it was any normal night, Jeremy felt a little more comfortable - though he still couldn’t explain his nervousness in the first place. Perhaps it was the way those green eyes seemed to hold so much. Of everything. Knowing that there was a person, a fully complete human being, hiding behind those eyes, not saying a word but with just as many thoughts and feelings as Jeremy possessed - it was just a little disconcerting. Those green eyes that could be so blank one moment and then filled with something Jeremy didn’t know how to describe the next.

And it didn’t help that Ryan wasn’t here, too. He knew the man needed time to adjust more than most, that giving him space was often the best thing to do, but fuck, he missed having him around all the time. Wished that he and Geoff hadn’t clashed as they did when the man returned with the stranger –

There was the sound of the front door, and he looked up hopefully only to see Geoff. Not that he wasn’t happy to see the man, but it wasn’t _his_ man.

“Hey,” Geoff greeted, stopping in his tracks when he saw who had joined them - like someone had suddenly splashed cold water in his face. “You’re up…”

“Long time no see,” Michael said, turning to the silent man. “This here’s your knight in shining armor.”

“Geoff’s the dad and the leader.”

“Yes,” Lindsay said, and her eyes crinkled with amusement. “And he’s the only one who’s as big a scaredy cat as you.”

“I’m not the fearless leader,” Alfredo retorted. “I don’t have any pressure on me to be brave and not watch scary movies unless I can hide behind a pillow.”

“I’m brave in other ways,” Geoff muttered, and he took a seat next to Jack. He was eating before anyone else even had a chance to draw another breath.

“Meetings are the worst,” he proclaimed through a mouthful of chili. “The day Trevor starts paying us will be the fucking best day of my life.”

“Burns playing hard to get with his dollars?” Jeremy asked, voice teasing but careful. “He forgot we still pay rent?”

“He said his resources are more limited the closer the election gets,” Geoff said, casting a glance towards the silent man. “I called bullshit. He didn’t like that very much.”

“So we’re getting the full amount, right?” Michael asked, and Geoff cracked a smirk.

“Of course we are.”

“Woo! We’re not gonna be homeless!” Alfredo exclaimed. “I knew Burnie loved us really.”

Meeting his eyes, Jeremy grinned. In reality they were never that short on money, but it was nice to never have to worry about paying for food and the rather expensive roof over their heads.

“Now only Ryan’s missing,” Alfredo informed the man, “He likes being by himself sometimes…” He cast an uncertain gaze around the table, a little unsure how much to say. “But he’s nice once you know him…” He glanced quickly towards Jeremy, a small glint in his eyes, “Especially if your name’s Jeremy.”

“You care to elaborate?” Michael asked, taking delight at the small blush on the younger man’s cheeks.

“No,” Jeremy said, sighing. “Let’s try and not put all our private lives out in the open. You probably don’t give a damn, do you?”

_What would you know?_ Jeremy’s entire being froze at the sudden look in those green eyes, directed to him and only him. _You don’t know me._

“Who’s fault is that then?” he said under his breath. No one else heard it, too busy chatting amongst themselves - only green eyes did, Jeremy saw the way his head tilted. Then again, perhaps he was going crazy, imagining what this mystery man was thinking and feeling, building up some character in his head purely because he had nothing else to go on.

He finished up the rest of his meal quickly. Excused himself to take that shower, staying in there longer than he normally would, letting the hot water run down him, breathing in the steam and coconut scent. He ran a hand across his head, hair shaved short, wondering again if he should grow it back in. Ryan said he didn’t mind either way, that Jeremy could do what he liked and shouldn’t worry so much, easy to say when you were born as handsome as that bastard was. Maybe it was being vain, but he did kinda miss having longer hair, if purely for the reason that he enjoyed feeling the other man’s fingers running through it.

A cry coming from the main room startled him alert, grabbing the razor and shaving his head automatically. He could hear a great deal of commotion once he turned the water off. Nothing alarming, but still, he wanted to see what was going on. Now nicely freshened up, he pushed open the bathroom door and walked straight into someone running towards him.

“Fredo!” he complained, staggering back a little.

“Gavin! It’s Gavin! His name’s Gavin!” Alfredo exclaimed, literally dancing on the spot.

Jeremy pushed past him. Saw the so-called Gavin sitting in the same place, not making any eye contact. But now he had a pen and paper in front of him. And there were letters on that paper.

“So you’re not just a robot,” he teased, but he was smiling. The man - Gavin - actually looked up at him, and again, this was almost certainly his imagination talking, but Jeremy swore that look just said, _Now are you happy?_

If he thought he was going to be let off that lightly he was sorely mistaken. Alfredo proved his point by launching into an assault of questions that would require a four-page essay to answer. Geoff eventually cut him off with a firm hand across his mouth and a smile to the other man. “It would be nice if we could know a little more about you,” he pointed out.

After a moment, Gavin turned his head, to Jeremy of all people, and the only thing he could think to do was smile encouragingly.

In the end he gave a small nod.

“Okay, um… how old are you, Gavin?”

Two numbers, obviously. Three and a zero.

_Huh, thought you were younger._

“Do you,” Geoff began, but then hesitated. “Do you have any memory of how you ended up here? In this city, I mean?”

A nod. Nothing else.

_Alright_.

“Where’re you from then?” Geoff tried. “You American?”

To Jeremy’s surprise, Gavin’s face clouded over, and his grip on the pen tightened.

_English._

“English, huh?” Jack said. “You mean, you’re from England?”

The man just gave a single nod, staring down at his hands, hair falling in front of his face.

“Geoff and I have been there a couple times,” Jack continued. “I take it you live here now and this wasn’t just a vacation.”

A nod. The man’s frame seemed to be getting smaller and smaller.

“Is there anyone we can call for you? Anyone we can contact?” Geoff pressed.

Gavin just shook his head, slowly.

“Okay…” Geoff trailed off a bit. He’d been excited before - _relieved_ \- now he looked even more worried than when he’d first brought the sick man back. “Hey,” he tried again, “It doesn’t matter. We can sort some things out when you’re better, it’ll be fine –”

Gavin got out of his chair, and Jeremy just watched him in silence with the others as he hobbled back to his room, as silent as ever.

That had been a half-success? He supposed.

_Gavin_ , he ran the name over in his head again.

_Gavin._

* * *

 

_Idiot. Idiot._ The ticking clock mocked his slow progress. Trying to dress appropriately, scrapping together what he could.

_You have to leave._ It kept repeating in his head, he had to leave now before these guys got caught up in his mess. So much for saying nothing, wanting to keep them safe just in case. He had no idea what compelled him to answer some of their questions. Maybe it was the comment from Jeremy. But then that would be stupid because who was he to ever care what someone he didn’t even know thought of him. He just wasn’t thinking _right_.

_You have to leave._

_You have to leave._

_Get out of this city. Find another. And then another. And another._

He’d outstayed his welcome. Hadn’t done enough, not nearly enough, to count himself untraceable yet. Believe it or not, that had been his intention, going to find the others - had wanted to imply that he was going. Wanted to at least try and thank them in some form for their kindness. But somehow he’d got fucking pulled into some family meal and then they’d all been looking at him and Jeremy had really been _looking_ at him and he’d given in all too easily.

It was so unlike him, to be out of control. He was always the one in control, even when it seemed like he wasn’t. Or had that been another lie too? Had he ever really been in control of his own actions before now?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, as he packed some of Alfredo’s clothes into a bag he’d found under the bed. He didn’t think the boy would miss two t-shirts and some jeans but it didn’t make him feel any less shitty.

Saying goodbye the conventional way wasn’t going to work. He was too bad at them. They were already too curious about him. It would just make things more messy.

Taking one last glance around the room, he tip-toed out. It was early morning and the whole apartment had been quiet for a few hours. Everyone was in their rooms sound asleep. His heart thudded in his chest even though it was hardly the most treacherous of escapes he’d made in his life. The front door clicked open gently, and he stood and eased the handle back gently and silently as possible.

Now he just had to take the elevator down and find his way to a subway or bus stop or just walk until he found something and…

And the elevator was not what he expected.

_Shit!_ Rather than being a simple button to push, instead there was a small touchscreen mounted on the wall.

Fingerprints.

Seemed a bit overkill for an apartment like this, nice though it was, Gavin had seen many more extravagant ones that didn’t have this sort of tech.

Maybe it was just for show…?

He saw no harm in trying, raising a hand to the screen.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He whipped around, wincing as his foot cried out in the brace.

“It’ll set off an alarm in everyone’s room and that’ll just put them in a bad mood,” Geoff informed him.

Gavin stared at him. How had he not heard the man? _You pride yourself on being aware of your surroundings, yet you let him just creep up on you?_

“I wish you didn’t feel the need to sneak out like this,” Geoff continued. “But if you really want to go I’m not stopping you.”

He paused, casting a searching gaze over Gavin. Then, suddenly, his whole stance changed, and his eyes seemed to stare right into Gavin’s soul. “I never said who we were,” he began. “Who we all were… but really, who lets a complete stranger into their house?”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed. _I don’t know. Who does?_

“We do because that’s what we do. We help people the best we can. In any way we can. Whether you’re young or old, rich or poor, we’ll try and help if it’s the best thing to do. Even some mystery man who falls out from underneath a bus…”

Gavin’s throat tightened. So he had seen that…

Geoff was still watching him, cooly, a man with all the cards in his hand. “You probably don’t know what to make of us,” he said. “And we sure as hell don’t know what to make of you. But if you’re in some kind of trouble, we can help. We know people, we know this city, and as you can see, we’re not exactly lacking when it comes to security. Now I don’t know why I brought you here when I could have taken you to a number of other places, but I did, it’s done now, and now you’ve seen us.”

He smirked a little. “I can assure you that no one knows you’re here and it can stay that way if you want, until you’ve thought up some other plan than simply running, _but_ , if you are leaving now I’m gonna have to blindfold you because like I said, I don’t know you, and I don’t want someone I don’t know knowing about this location.”

“And Gavin,” he added after a long moments silence. “You do realize you’ve ended up in Achievement City, right?”

Gavin’s eyes widened. No… had he really gone that far? It would explain the ocean but still… _You really lucked out on that one._ Though not the official name for the west coast, multi-million populated city, it was one that the media had gifted it almost thirty years ago, and it had just stuck.

As with so many nicknames, it was one of irony, because as far as cities go, it was basically America’s worst achievement. It had been built up around the idea of affordable housing for blue-collar workers, it had been a thriving shipping town and investors had jumped at the opportunity. Thing was, everything had been too rushed, too ambitious - officials had let things slide, or simply not noticed at all - under the table deals had been rife. And nobody had taken action to correct the misdeeds or prevent more from going on. They’d simply given up and moved onto further ventures, and things had gotten progressively worse.

That was some fifty, sixty years ago.

As of the current day, it was one of the most corrupt, over-populated, crime-riddled cities, not just in America, but the whole world. Gavin had never taken a job here before, but some of the others had, and to hear the stories, they made it sound like it came straight out of a cyberpunk movie.

It wouldn’t have been a choice he’d have willingly made. Because as skillful and experienced as he was, Achievement City was just too… _much_ , of everything, for someone who wanted to lay low.

Geoff must have seen the spark of recognition in his eyes, because he smiled a little, raising one eyebrow. “So… you’re in a city where it’s almost impossible to find one person if you don’t know where you’re looking, with a bunch of people who are experts at staying hidden. I’m just laying it all out on the table for you, is all.”

_Just who are you?_ He’d thought they were, well, strange to say the least, but what did he know about people? At any rate, he’d simply thought they were very nice strangers. But now, Geoff was giving off the vibe that there something much bigger going on.

The older man took a few more steps closer. “What do you say? It’s late and it’s not wise to head out if you don’t know these streets like the back of your hand. You’ll stay and think, rather than run and gun?”

Gavin stared back, everything in him telling him that this was a bad idea and he should take the offer to leave. But was that just the fear? The fear of letting anyone get too close. He was at a loss, there didn’t seem to be a right and obvious answer. If he left, it would be into the unknown; if he stayed, the territory was even more unfamiliar.

Geoff was still waiting for his answer.

_Run._

_Run._

_You have to get out. But why? Just so he could run for the sake of running?_

_What if… what if?_

_You’re overthinking everything, stop overthinking. Just make a fucking choice!_

In the end, he supposed, like with so many things in his life, you don’t think you just –

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is! Excited to be starting something new and boy is this quite an ambitious one in terms of intended length and character development. I'm gonna need a lot of coffees XD


	2. Chapter 2

Gavin tried and failed to go back to sleep that night and by morning he could feel the lack of rest taking its toll.

Construction had started bright and early again, sounds of metal against metal and drill against wood from as early as five. He’d spent most of his time just lying and staring up at the ceiling - Geoff’s words running through his head, tossing and turning like a restless sleeper would, so that he saw the dark grey of the nights' shadows slowly morph into the soft white that came with the morning sun.

_You made your choice_ , he kept repeating, as his survival instinct urged him to get up and run, forget what Geoff had said, risk it on his own, cause he was the only one he could fully trust. Gavin the person, however, liked to think he was smarter than that.

Achievement City.

_Them_. Geoff’s wording had been deliberately vague last night, giving Gavin just enough information to let him know they weren’t just the run of the mill good samaritans - all that stuff about staying hidden, the fingerprint security system. But nothing, not one thing let slip, that could give Gavin any idea as to who exactly these people were and what their deal was - quite a hard struggle for him to imagine the likes of Jack or Alfredo baring the same seriousness Geoff had done.

But then again he supposed he didn’t know the first thing about them. Knew who was sleeping in which room, and who was sleeping with who, thanks to Alfredo. Also that Jack made a damn good chili. That was it.

There had been some talk the previous night, something about a man named Burns and an election. Could be that they worked for the government, or were part of the mayor’s council, yet it seemed strange that so many work colleagues would share the same living space, and be so, as he had witnessed many a time already, so friendly and affectionate with one another. They were a mystery alright. As he was to them, he was sure, and would have had to be blind to miss the uneasiness in Jeremy’s eyes last night.

The small man seemed to have warmed up a little after Gavin told them some things. He wondered how quickly that would change if they found out the whole story - be quick to throw him out no doubt, he thought as he slowly pushed himself to the edge of the bed and stood up. Being awake all night had left him hungrier than usual, and he figured being as nice as they were, they wouldn’t mind him finding some food for himself. Or even just a coffee if his throat decided to be a bitch again.

He forgot, as he carefully walked out of the room, that he would technically be invading someone else’s room as soon as he entered the main room. Alfredo looked like he was still half asleep as Gavin limped in, a mess of blankets and pillows sprawled out on the large couch, but the moment he noticed Gavin, he sat up, glowing under the golden sunlight spilling in through the huge window, grinning widely.

“Hey!” he greeted, bounding over like an excited puppy, slipping and sliding on the hardwood flooring in his haste to get to Gavin.

He skidded to a stop and glanced Gavin up and down, the look of excitement never leaving his face. Gavin managed a small smile back, still not quite sure how to react to such exuberance, though not entirely unwelcoming to it. It would just take some getting used to, having someone so obviously happy to see him.

_You don’t deserve it,_ that voice whispered.

“Good morning,” he croaked in an automatic response, and Alfredo’s grin widened.

“You can talk! I knew you could! The others thought maybe you were a mute or something but I knew you weren’t.”

“You were correct,” Gavin replied stiffly. Then added, a little lighter, “Why didn’t you think that?”

Alfredo’s face screwed up slightly in thought. “Uhh… I dunno. I guess I just thought you looked like someone who talked.” That wide grin appeared on his face again. “Just wait until I tell the others! They think I don’t know stuff sometimes… and I guess I don’t know that much, but I know some stuff –”

He cut himself off from going off on too long a tangent; leaned to one side, peeking past Gavin to the hallway behind, gazing with an even fonder grin. He bounced towards to the other man walking up to them, grabbing onto their wrist and tugging them forward. There was a slightly awkward moment as the strangers face and Gavin’s got very close as he squeezed by - a moment when Gavin felt a shiver go through him suddenly, the piercing blue eyes and firm jaw, a face and expression that felt like he was scrutinising over every last detail on Gavin’s face and attempting to delve into his mind even at this first encounter.

He almost looked like he wanted to stop and interrogate Gavin there and then, but Alfredo still had a hold on him, and instead he was intent on leading the man into the kitchen. Gavin felt the intense stare lift off him, the new person seamlessly switching from a sort of cold curiosity to an exasperated affection.

“Food first, ask questions later, Ryan,” Alfredo told him, and the man called Ryan let out a small huff.

Ryan… _Jeremy’s boyfriend?_ They certainly seemed like an odd pair at first glance.

“We’re _still_ doing this, Fredo?” he groaned, and Alfredo nodded insistently, eyes wide and serious as he hastily handed Ryan a knife from the kitchen counter.

Ryan took it from him, and Gavin saw the small smirk that twitched at the corners of his mouth even if he was also shaking his head in pretend annoyance. He remained where he stood, silently watching as Ryan moved forward and looked up at one of the cupboards.

“Let me guess. Fruit loops?” he asked.

“Yeah, unless _it’s_ in there, in the box” Alfredo said, biting at his lip nervously. “Then I’ll just have that stuff Jeremy has.”

“What, those little rock things?” Ryan queried skeptically. “I think you’ll chip your baby teeth if you try those.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Alfredo retorted, before hastily glancing back at Gavin. “I mean - it’s not - I don’t have baby teeth, alright. He’s just being a dick cause I’ve still got wisdom teeth coming in, which by the way, isn’t that weird, alright?” He turned to Ryan again. “Just do it already! I’m staaarving.”

One more loud, exaggerated sigh and then knife in a raised hand pointed directly at the cupboard, Ryan took on a fighting stance while Alfredo scurried back and jumped to sit on the counter in front of Gavin. Well, now his line of sight was broken he supposed he’d have to move, not that he could care any less what was going on. It’s not like it concerned him, and he should just mind his own business when it was clear he was not welcomed by one half of the party.

_But_ , this was also a man pointing a knife at a fucking food cupboard, so to hell with it, he moved up to the same counter, leaning on it from the other side, watching intently.

All was calm for a few moments. And then, like a madman, Ryan flung the cupboard door open so fast it slammed against the others, before striking inside knife first.

Nothing much happened.

“You know what, Fredo?” he asked quietly, after he’d rustled around inside a bit.

“What? Is - is it there? Is it safe?” Alfredo replied.

“I think that we might…” Ryan trailed off - Gavin narrowed his eyes; wary as the other man went very still and quiet.

“What is it, Ryan?” Alfredo asked impatiently, shifting around anxiously next to Gavin. “Ryan, _stop it._ I don’t like it when you go all creepy and quiet.”

“Oh yeah, sorry…” Ryan said, turning his head very slowly to them. “It’s just,” he paused, and Gavin saw the man’s arm twitch as if grabbing something, while a strange look also appeared in his eye. It was –

“There’s just _so many_ cockroaches in here!”

His train of thought was broken by Ryan shouting and throwing something, followed by Alfredo screaming and falling off the counter. In a completely mirrored reaction, he merely blinked a few times, although then realized his hand had been reaching instinctively to his lower back, going for an item that used to _always_ be there. But now it was…

_Stop._

“It’s clean,” Ryan laughed in the meantime. “Get off the floor - look, it’s _nothing_. Just some loose cereal that was lying there, cause apparently no one fucking cleans in this place.”

Alfredo’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter and then the top of his head peeked over, in time to see Ryan walk over and lift the three dark colored bits of cereal off the dark granite, letting them drop again with an amused smirk. There was no meanness in it, no real bullying nature to the prank, harmless.

“Why would you do that!?” Alfredo exclaimed, leapfrogging back onto the counter, “You’re meant to be the one who I can trust to deal with evil bugs, but now even you’re against me!”

He pushed angrily against Ryan’s shoulders. It barely had any effect.

“I’ll always be your bug catcher,” Ryan said, grabbing the younger into a headlock. “Just not for the same cupboard every morning two weeks after we saw a cockroach in there, okay?”

A huff. And then, “ _Okaaay…_ ” came the very muffled reply, and Ryan grinned, giving the head a shake before releasing it. “Come on, cheer up! You can help me make the others breakfast!”

Alfredo’s face immediately lit up, and Gavin was surprised at the quick turn around, confused by how the incident was brushed over so easily. Even after witnessing the way they were with one another for the past few days, it still caught him off guard. Even those he’d “hung out” with during the short down times, they hadn’t exactly been buddy buddy. Some of them had been close, he knew. But not him. Never him.

“That’s not enough, we have to make some for Gavin too,” he glanced up at his name, saw Alfredo pointing to the carton of eggs Ryan had in his hands. “Jack said he was only allowed soft food, but that was when he was really sick and he ate half the chilli okay last night. Soft food’s good but it can get boring if you have it for ages, like that time Michael’s throat got all swollen and all he could have was soup. You gotta make him something special, like a breakfast to welcome him back to being healthy again.”

Gavin wanted to say he didn’t mind what he had to eat. He was beyond lucky they were allowing him to eat at all, let alone stay in their home and take care of him while he was feverish and injured. Unlike Alfredo, however, Ryan seemed reluctant to offer him any meal at all, as he turned back and offered Gavin an expression that he recognized well, one given to him by many who wanted him gone and out of the way.

“So that’s its name,” Ryan said. “Thought it wasn’t telling you anything.”

If he thought calling Gavin “it” would annoy him, he was very wrong. He’d been referred to as “it” countless times, and it was actually rather pleasant compared to some of the alternatives. Alfredo, though, took offense on his behalf.

“Don’t be rude,” the boy said. “He does now! Plus we got him to write some stuff down last night when we were eating. If you’d been here, you’d know that too.”

Ryan shrugged. He was doing his best to ignore him, Gavin could tell, and was distracting himself by being further _annoying_ , teasing Alfredo by aiming yolky fingers at his face and clothes. _Would have thought they were related._ They were acting like brothers. Then again, he had to remind himself, what the fuck did he really know about family?

“You can sit down at the table, Gavin, if you want to,” Alfredo told him. “I would say you could sit on the couch and watch TV but Jack, Geoff, and Jeremy will take it over in a few minutes to watch the re-run of last nights baseball game. I mean - you could too, I just… uh, I didn’t think British people liked baseball cause it doesn’t exist over there.”

Ryan snorted, and then began to explain to Alfredo that he was an idiot. Gavin was doing as suggested, testing out his still-healing ankle as he walked over to the long table. Jack had said it should be another couple of weeks before he should put his full weight on it, but already it felt a great deal better. A man who clearly knew what he was doing.

“I wanna come with you today,” Alfredo said to Ryan, after they’d got the food going. “I ain’t got nothing to do after Trevor’s gone.”

Gavin’s ears pricked up.

“I’m sure one of the others can find something for you to do, not that I don’t enjoy your company,” Ryan murmured. “You know I prefer working jobs like this one alone.”

“But you’ve let Jeremy go with you before,” Alfredo said. “Is that cause you love him more than me?”

Ryan laughed. He shook his head before giving Alfredo a playful shove. The big grin completely changed his face, softening his features, making his eyes light up; that is until he spotted Gavin watching them closely and he quickly turned away.

“Just in a different way,” he commented, and Alfredo smirked. He turned and pulled a face at Gavin, mischievous.

“Ryan thinks I won’t like watching him work,” he replied. “But, I dunno, I heard Jeremy say once it was kinda hot.”

Ryan blinked. “I’m gonna kill you,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I’m gonna murder you, right now. In this kitchen. There’ll be a big mess on the floor and it’ll be all your fault.”

Alfredo just laughed. He was taking the threat of death very well, but moved away before Ryan could throw an egg at him, sitting down at the head of the table by Gavin. Gavin himself was mostly bemused watching the interaction, if a little cautious around Ryan. Aggression, rudeness, violence - he knew how to combat those. _Passive-aggressiveness_ , however… 

Still. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things. If Ryan not instantly taking to him like the others miraculously had was his biggest worry, things were looking up. That’s if he were to trust everything Geoff had said, which he was. For the moment. He thinks.

“Hey, Gavin,” Alfredo said, poking him in the arm to grab his attention. “Now that your voice is working better, there’s something I gotta ask. In the mouth? Or in the butt?”

To say that stunned him would be an understatement, and it was emphasized by the loud _crash_ of Ryan smashing a pan lid down on the counter.

“Okay! And I’m throwing you out the window!” he exclaimed, and Gavin hunched in on himself, eyes wide, and watched with the utmost bewilderment as a chase commenced around the table.

* * *

 

Sunlight. Morning had appeared out of nowhere, the sun rising over the city skyline before he’d even attempted to get to asleep. Geoff had spent many nights during his life staying awake mulling over problems or decisions, and the young man called Gavin, he was most definitely something to keep him restless, tossing and turning until it was light and he could hear noise from the kitchen, and then even more noise when Alfredo started screaming.

“Who’s killing the kid this time?” Jack muttered from his side of the room. He was still buried under his covers as Geoff trudged around sleepily, throwing on the closest clothes he could find, black on black as usual.

“Probably a spider,” Geoff replied. He could tell, though, from the laughter mixed in, that they were cries of excitement rather than fear. “Remember Trevor’s coming round in an hour or so. He’s bringing the intel he promised. Thinks it’ll be a group effort. Wants to see us all.”

“I know,” Jack replied, and sat up and rubbed at his eyes before putting on his glasses. “He’s only sent us about twenty texts reminding us all to be here. Anyone would think he’s actually our boss. Now go and feed Fredo, or strangle him. Just shut him up.”

Geoff smiled, fondly.

“Alright, what’s going on in here?” he called out as he opened the bedroom door and walked down the hallway, spying three people already there including _Gavin,_ who was the only innocent party in the current chaos, looking baffled if anything.

“Ryan, put it down! You don’t know where it’s been,” he instructed.

Ryan hesitated before complying, dropping ‘it’ from his shoulders onto the couch. “I missed when _it_ had his own room. The sooner things are back to normal the better. Anyway, we made breakfast. I’m heading out in a bit.”

“Normal?” Geoff questioned, hearing the underlying distaste. “If you want normal get an office job. And you can’t leave, Trevor wants to see us all.”

“Ha, you can’t run away today,” Alfredo laughed, playfully kicking at the older man. “It’ll be fun working a job with everyone again! And the shit Trevor gives us is always the coolest. And we’ve got news for him _too_.” He directed Geoff’s gaze to Gavin, still sat by silently watching. “And guess what… he can talk.”

Geoff walked over and started grabbing a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, as well as a second smaller plate.

“So you’ve been talking, huh?” he inquired, as if it were news to him.

“Uh-huh, so that means I was right and Michael and Lindsay were wrong,” Alfredo continued. “Oh yeah! I forgot to do this earlier, what with Ryan being all annoying and stuff… but that’s Ryan. He and Jeremy are real, _real_ close. Y’know?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Geoff saw Ryan tense up, but Gavin nodded happily enough.

“Thank you for letting me stay, for the time,” he said, voice still a little hoarse.

“It’s absolutely no problem,” Geoff insisted, not mentioning how they’d, in fact, already spoken. “Glad to have you, and glad to hear you’ve regained control of your tongue? Means we can have a chat later to work out some things… okay?”

He regarded the young man closely. Saw how his eyes had lowered, how his own body was as tense as Ryan’s. Neither of them spoke another word as the others slowly filed into the kitchen one by one, the sounds of the morning’s shenanigans filling the room enough so it wasn’t like it was awkward or anything; yet it made Geoff uncomfortable all the same, knowing he was partly to blame.

_Just had to bring him back here, didn’t you? Could have taken him anywhere, but you bring him to your home? To their home?_

It wasn’t until Trevor arrived about an hour and a half later that he could finally set his mind elsewhere.

“Hey,” the young man greeted, clapping his hand against Geoff’s the moment the door opened. “Sorry I’m late. Got some new blood in who I wouldn’t trust to work the vending machines, let alone on a case. I trust everyone’s here then.” He spoke in that slightly hyper, stressed out tone he usually displayed during a work day, but was glad when Geoff nodded back. “Awesome, I need to get through this quickly and it’s kind of a last minute thing - yeah, I know, I’m sorry, but what can a guy do? I need to be back in time for - did you know there is a stranger at your table?”

Geoff huffed out a little laugh.

“Yeah, we noticed. Just someone who’s staying with us for a little bit.” 

“That so?” Trevor cast a side glance towards him. “He uh… a colleague of yours?”

“No. Knows nothing about it,” Geoff added.

“And he’s _here_?” Trevor whispered. “Just hanging with you guys?”

“Trevor!” He was cut off by a yell, and then a flurry of movement. “Trevor’s here! Trevor’s here!”

Geoff had to take a step back as Alfredo practically barrelled into the young man, wrapping him in a big hug.

“ _Oof_ , hey Fredo,” Trevor returned the hug, face softening.

“Trevor, look, we got a new person called Gavin,” he said, pointing. “I’m not the newest anymore.”

“So I’ve seen,” Trevor mused. “Not gonna lie, bit surprised, but I’ll take it. Nice to meet you, Gavin.”

Gavin gave a tight smile and nodded his way, obviously anxious by the sudden newcomer.

“It’s alright, I don’t bite!” Trevor claimed. “You must be brave, or insane. Staying with idiots like these lot.”

Gavin just gave another small smile again, but he relaxed a little too.

“Right, let’s get to it,” Geoff declared. Not just for Trevor’s benefit, but because he was always eager to hear whatever the kid had found for them. “We’ll just be talking over some boring stuff, Gavin. Be a good idea to grab a shower while it’s free.”

“Just don’t create a fucking tsunami like Lindsay somehow does every time,” Michael teased, and Lindsay swatted at him, laughing.

“Fuck off, I just forget that shower head moves sometimes. And anyway, I’m making sure the bathroom gets a clean too.”

Gavin met Geoff’s gaze. Geoff couldn’t work out how suspicious he was, though he had spoken with a practiced casualness, there was something about those green eyes that looked right through him. Either way the conversation they were about to have were not for his ears. Geoff hurried things along by asking Jack to fetch a clean towel and make sure Gavin was all good, waiting until the man returned and he could hear water running before turning to Trevor.

“I take it you gentlemen are familiar with your gemstones,” the man commented as they gathered around the table.

Michael pulled a face.

“Please don’t tell me your grandmother’s lost her pearls again.”

“No, but she has lost a pair of gloves, thanks for your concern,” Trevor said. “I’m talking big, boys.”

They all subconsciously leaned in. Of all the jobs they had ever taken, their most challenging always came straight from the young man; the most rewarding too. As a detective for the Westside, Trevor dealt with more than his fair share of crimes, and he was damn good at his job, most solved cases in his department, but there were some - this was where Geoff and his family came in - that needed a slightly different approach.

“Are any of you aware of the 14th annual Peterson’s Gala?” he asked, and then, at their quizzical looks, “Charity fundraiser, the wealthiest come to bid on the most fucking ridiculously priced items in Gabriel Peterson’s collection.”

He looked around again, as if that suddenly explained all, and rolled his eyes at their apparent cluelessness.

“Who are you guys?” he asked. “Thought you were all about this charitable life? Oh well, anyway, the money raised from this event all goes to St Peter’s children’s hospital, founded by Peter Peterson, Gabriel’s great, great, great, whatever grandfather. Family no longer has the same role but they still provide a huge financial backing, a lot of it from this event. The fourteenth one, did I mention that? But I guess you’re wondering where your pretty faces fit into all this.”

For a man who claimed to be pressed for time, he certainly did love embellishing out the details. Still, Geoff had come to realize this was to be expected, he’d get to the point eventually -

“Three weeks ago pair of black opal earrings, a pendant, and three black opal rings, estimated to be worth around twenty-five thousand, were stolen from Peterson’s collection at his home. It was forced entry, four guys, all in masks…”

He went on, explaining how he’d been given a reliable tip that the jewels were currently being held under strict security down in The Warrens, a network of tunnels that ran under a section of the city, a place no normal person would ever be found wondering, a place where even they seldom set foot. In fact, Geoff was pretty sure that other than Ryan, none of them had ever spent more than a couple of hours down there.

It just wasn’t a very sensible idea. No matter how much work they put into the city streets, The Warrens were a whole other story. Too much for Geoff and his crew. Too much for anyone right now. One day though; Geoff dreamed that one day even a place like The Warrens would see its end.

More than likely it wouldn’t be him to complete the task, hell, he might be long gone - but there was one of the reasons why he didn’t work alone. He needed people. Not just to back him up in the present but to hopefully carry on his work in the future.

Because, you see, that was who they were. They weren’t heroes, or criminals. Vigilantes or avengers. They were just normal people. Normal people who had taken a personal vow, an oath that they would do everything in their power to try and fix the mess and the carnage and the chaos and the _bloodshed_ that filled the streets of Achievement City every day.

They were a team. These guys were his family, bonded by that same incredible hunger to help in any way they could. Different upbringings, vastly different walks of life.

It had all lead them here, one way or another. To a dining table at the top of an apartment block, listening to a young detective.

“It’ll be a challenge, but one we can pull of,” Geoff assured the young man. “Ryan… I’ll let you take point on this one.”

He cast a concerned look at the man, who’d been quiet thus far, but Ryan’s jaw set firm in determination, and he grunted in agreement.

“Not that I want to tell you guys how to do your jobs,” Trevor said. “But this needs to be completed by next weekend at the latest. I mean, it’s no life or death situation, just Peterson needs those gems back for the fundraiser. They’re to be the star attraction.”

“We’ll have it done, if this money really is going to St Peter’s then it could help save lives. That’s life or death,” Ryan murmured, before narrowing his eyes slightly. “Take it Peterson didn’t go to the police then. Why?”

“Uh… you could say it was for a little self-preservation. Look, I won’t go into all the details, just know that when he reached out to my guys, he said he valued discretion above all else. Like I said, it was forced entry, you don’t need to know why his normal staff had been sent home, or why he was handcuffed to a bed before the thieves even entered…”

Trevor smirked at their expressions, varying from amused to befuddled. “He just wants them back without a fuss. You’re welcome to your own thoughts on the guy, and I’ll admit, he makes eccentricity an art form, but his accounts add up, I’ve checked myself — all the money goes straight to the hospital, not a penny spared.”

“And besides,” he continued, packing up. “We’re all entitled to our privacy, aren’t we? I mean it’s not like I go around telling people how I enjoy a bubble path with jasmine candles every Sunday - talking of bathing, did you know there’s water coming out from this door, quite a big puddle, I have a wet sock now, I do hate that - I think you should consider the possibility that your guest may have drowned.”

* * *

 

Luckily, Gavin hadn’t drowned, although he had created a considerable flood in the bathroom. Alerted by Trevor’s incessant babbling, he’d opened the door a crack, all apologetic and nervous - it wasn’t even too bad, Ryan had seen worse from Lindsay.

Gavin tried to suggest that he be the one to clean up the mess but was quickly shut down by Jack; the man ordered him go and get a hair dryer for his brace, gently scolding him for getting it so wet, after all the times he’d been reminding him, acting the flustered mother hen as usual.

That had been a few hours ago and they hadn’t seen from the young man since; no noise coming from the bedroom, Michael turning the TV up loud in his and Lindsay’s room to try and distract Gavin from any conversations he might overhear, rather one-sided so far, as it had just been Ryan talking while the rest listened.

It certainly wasn’t a job he felt _comfortable_ in taking - not in any way diminishing the fire in him, just any task that involved The Warrens drudged up unpleasant memories, always had and most likely always would. More pressure too, seeing as how he was the go-to guy when it came to the network of old sewer and subway tunnels, the others heavily relying on him to be their beacon of light in the dark.

The setup was simple, they needed information first and foremost. Ryan knew, not from any direct experience but just from word of mouth, that any stolen goods taken down to The Warrens would be handed off to a fence - or moving man as they were known. Skilled at theft and violence these people may be, but the art of dealing with customers not so much. So almost always they’d give the goods over to a moving man, who’d pay them and sell them for profit to a buyer.

Though it had been a while - almost over ten years in fact, since he’d resided in similar circles, Ryan was still certain he had one reliable contact who’d be able to help them.

“Moving men are notoriously hateful towards each other,” Ryan explained. “To see another guy lose money will be enough incentive for him, but if not, he owes me a couple of favors anyway. He gives us their location and we hit it fast and hard. We don’t want to linger down there any longer than necessary.”

He could see their brains whirring, Geoff’s mainly -the burden of worrying about every little detail that came with being the leader, of what it might cost them, the risk of injury.

“And no, we probably won’t be able to show our faces down there for a good while after,” Ryan informed him, reading the older man’s mind. “No matter how secretive we are, word gets round. We do this, and we’ll just have to hope nothing else comes up in the near future involving that place. Not to mention a few might try to come after us above ground.”

Geoff let out a long sigh.

“If you think that’s best,” he said. “It’s one thing going down there for intel or chasing after a single dude - can only imagine what’s gonna happen when we hit one of their fucking sources of income.”

“Oh yeah, they’re gonna be pissed,” Ryan said.

“Well, this is definitely a team effort!” Michael continued. “Someone better let Matt know we’re gonna need everything he has! And remind me to buy extra spinach, I feel like I’m gonna need to Popeye up for this one.”

They all chuckled for a moment, for different reasons. But Geoff’s tapered out quickly, and he shifted a little so he could turn and look at all of them.

“You know the drill,” he said, a serious note back in his voice. “Any job as high risk as this will be… is there anyone who’d like out? You know no one here will judge you. You know we will respect your decision and not hold it against you. Believe me… I wouldn’t blame any of you if you’d rather we hand this one back to Trevor, I’m sure Peterson can find some other family heirloom to auction off. Ryan - no, don’t give me that look, you know why I’m worried - you more than any of us shouldn’t ever have to set a foot back in that hell hole again.”

“You’re right, I don’t like the thought of going back there…” Ryan replied, frowning. “But I like the thought of you lot going there without me even less.”

“Oh my God, we’re so _boring_ ,” Lindsay suddenly chimed in. “You’d think that maybe one day one of us would say ‘fuck this, good luck losers’, make things a little bit more interesting, don’t you think? Spice things up.”

Michael shook his head, rolling his eyes. “You’re an insane person.”

Lindsay blew him a kiss across the table. “You love it.”

“So you’ll get in contact with your guy?” Geoff continued, looking to Ryan. “Fredo, you head to Matt’s and see what you can get us; Jeremy, I want you working on our escape. Jack, see if you can find anything useful from the papers Trevor left, there’s a couple of old sewer maps that might be of help. Michael and Lindsay, you work on that spinach, give Jack a hand too. I’m gonna work with you Ryan. This is the biggest fucking job we’ve had in a while and I do not want _anyone_ hurt. Risk assessment, that’s what I need to do.”

“Sounds good,” Ryan agreed, nodding along with everyone else.

“There could be a better way,” a voice murmured off to the side - everyone’s head whipping around lightning fast.

…

There was no response to start with - Ryan could only stare wide-eyed in absolute disbelief at the figure leaning against the hallway wall.

“What the fuck are you there for?” he spat out, as soon as he recovered from his initial shock. “You - what –” he spluttered. Couldn’t concentrate all of a sudden - angered not only by the little shit’s presence, because fucking hell, at least all the talk about the job had made him forget about the stranger, but also because of the way he was _looking_ at them.

That’s what Ryan hated the most. The look in those eyes. He’d known eyes like those before.

“Of fuck…” Michael drawled, not too subtly. “How long’ve you been there?”

“You’ve been listening to us?” Geoff asked straight after, nowhere near as angry as Ryan expected, or wanted.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said then, and shrank in on himself, eyes flicking away. “I just… I overheard some stuff earlier, in the bathroom. I didn’t mean to spy on you, but… and now I guess I was trying to make sense of it? I heard most of what you talked about… I think it’s good, if that’s any consolation… I… it sounds like you do good work.”

It was the longest they’d ever heard him talk. Ryan felt no less uneasy.

_How did you miss him? How did you not hear him sneak out?_ Everything about the man, his mannerisms, and actions, upped Ryan’s distrust of him by the second.

“You weren’t showering earlier were you?” Jeremy piped up. “You were listening. That’s why you didn’t notice the shower head go all crooked.”

Gavin almost looked like he was about to run, body tensing up and loosening periodically. But he nodded once in response.

Ryan saw Jeremy’s narrow, casting a probing gaze. “Why?” he asked.

“Because I wanted to know,” Gavin said. “I wanted to understand why you guys would help me… I know that’s not a good excuse but… but it just didn’t make sense. I’ve never… I thought…”

He fell silent, and Jeremy sent a confused, concerned glance to Ryan. In return, Ryan’s fists clenched instinctively.

_Enough bullshitting._ He took a stride forward, intending to deal with the little prick in the only manner he saw fit. However, all of a sudden, Geoff was walking over before Ryan could even get there.

“It doesn’t make sense that we’d want to help you?” he asked.

Gavin shrugged his shoulders. His head lowered.

“You,” Geoff began - pausing, struggling internally for a moment. “Did there have to be any other reason than the one I already gave you? That we just want to help because we have the means to.”

“I don’t know,” Gavin replied, a little lost, and Geoff sighed.

“This has made things a little more tricky,” he admitted. “But… I admit I’m now curious. Gavin, what do you mean, there could be a better way?”

Hesitantly, the young man raised his head. “I only meant there could be a way that’s a lot safer for you.”

Ryan had had enough. “Oh come on! Geoff, are we really –”

A raised hand silenced him, Ryan bit his tongue so hard it bled a little. 

“What way’s that?” Geoff continued softly, and Gavin raised his head again, eyes no longer darting so much.

“Well… fences in cities like this never send their stock out far, it’s better for business if they keep it local. They can build up a reputation. If you guys know which jewelers are most likely to be dealing with stolen goods –”

“Pacha’s,” Lindsay put in. “Or Taylor and Hart’s.”

Gavin gave a little nod. “It’d be easy to wait and see when items matching the description of the stolen ones turned up at those places and then…”

“And then?” Geoff pressed.

“You steal it back,” Gavin said.

Ryan heard the laugh of disbelief from Michael. Saw the curious expression on Jeremy’s face. Felt his anger slowly rising higher.

“And how would you suggest we do that?” Geoff asked, surprising Ryan by not shutting down the suggestion immediately.

_Is he really gonna let this guy talk?_

“You create a distraction… it’s easy enough if you have enough people who know what they’re doing.”

Geoff let out another small laugh. “You a master thief or something?”

“No,” Gavin replied quickly. Too quickly. “I just read a lot.”

“So you’ve not done this before?”

A different look crossed Gavin’s face then. One they hadn’t seen before - almost coy.

He looked around at them all - almost pleased.

“I never said that,” he answered - almost confidently.

And Ryan saw red.

* * *

 

“ _Ryan._ ”

Jeremy wasn’t quite sure when Ryan’s anger had boiled over. It could have been when they’d spotted Gavin listening in on them, or it could have been when Geoff had silently but commandingly told him to shut up. But most likely it was when Gavin had implied he knew what he was talking about. The result of said anger boiling over being the lovely pieces of glass Jeremy had spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning up off the floor.

He blamed himself more than anything, for not paying close enough attention. Ryan didn’t like Gavin being around, but then he often took a while to warm up to new people, and the way Geoff had so unexpectedly turned up at the door with him had been a bit of a slap in the face. But now he realised this wasn’t just teething problems - something more deeply rooted was going on with his Ryan.

“Ryan,” he tried again, staring at the shadowed figure lying next to him. “I know you’re not asleep.”

Ryan had disappeared for the rest of that day; Jeremy had gone to bed alone, though not sleeping until his boyfriend had safely returned. Ryan had practically leapt into bed too - throwing off his socks and jeans and jumping straight in, lying still and quiet immediately. He was ignoring Jeremy, keeping his back to him, breathing slowly and steadily, but Jeremy knew there was no way in hell that he would ever go to sleep that quickly.

“I know we’ve plenty of reasons not to trust Gavin,” he admitted. First, the guy had refused to tell them anything about himself and his situation, a shadow living in their home - now he was telling them how to rob a jewelers. If he hadn’t seemed so nervous Jeremy probably would’ve been as mad as Ryan when they found out he’d been listening in. “But we’re gonna be careful. At the end of the day he can’t do anything, he can’t even leave without us knowing.”

Silence.

“I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Ryan?”

Nothing.

“I’d do anything for you, you know that,” Jeremy said, turning onto his back and staring up with a sigh. “If there’s something going on you’ve got to tell me. I try to be a mind reader with you sometimes but I’m still practicing, just give me a little bit to go on.”

No reply.

“I love you. Nothing could ever stop me from loving you, ever,” Jeremy whispered.

“Ryan…” he sighed, pausing for a moment, laying a lingering gaze on the man’s back, so close yet distant, “G’night, Ryan.” There it was, a moment where he felt absolutely useless, like everything the two of them had been through meant nothing. Two years and still it sometimes felt like Ryan could so easily re-erect those walls Jeremy and the others had worked so hard to break down. And it was nights like these that were darker than most, suffocatingly so.

* * *

 

Michael walked in like he owned the place, all casual with his hands in his pockets. Tailored blue shirt resting comfortably on his shoulders. He had never spent much time in the Upper Westside, despite only living about a fifteen-minute subway ride away, and also - over ten years he’d been living in the city that now felt more like home than New Jersey ever had been. Not that he didn’t miss his family, but the most important person in his life was here.

Beside him, Lindsay looked even more the part than he did, all glammed up in her finest. Red dress and studded white shoes. All around them stood glass display cases, inside jewelry glistened and shone in all their hugely priced glory.

Taylor and Hart’s - prime shopping location for only the richest of customers, and the only other lead they had after Pacha’s had turned up empty. For despite it’s spotlessly clean, sparkling image, the business was dirty from the ground up, or so Lindsay told him, because truth be told he’d never been one for business politics. It was only after meeting his now wife that he’d realized just how much corruption went into making some of the most successful businesses successful. Still didn’t understand half of it but it wasn’t his thing anyway.

Times like these he was just here to watch his wife do what she did best.

Lindsay reached up and pulled off her sunglasses. She appeared relaxed as him, but Michael could see how alert she really was. She’d been studying for literally _hours_ so she’d know exactly what these black opals looked like. Michael had already proven he was useless - in Pacha’s he’d thought every other item of jewelry was the one they sought after. But Lindsay knew how to identify the smallest specifics - had a certain eye for value, just been a while since she’d needed to put it into practice.

If they turned up empty, he supposed they could try again tomorrow, but Ryan had said most goods of this value would be snatched up within a week, and here they were, a week and three days after the initial robbery. At any rate, Ryan’s original plan was out of the window. No point going down to The Warrens if they couldn’t be certain the gems weren’t there anymore.

They walked up to one of the glass cabinets, all diamonds in this one but they didn’t want to simply go rushing around like a pair of hound dogs, and Michael smirked at the glint Lindsay got in her eye.

“Next time,” he said.

“Fuck yeah,” she replied.

They both knew that wasn’t true. Even if they lived basically all expenses paid in one of the richest neighborhoods, they could never consider themselves wealthy. Money wasn’t exactly lying around - Geoff had always made that clear, they gave away as much as they could afford. If they didn’t have Burnie, or more specifically Burnie’s monthly payments, they’d still be living in that dodgy apartment complex back in South Quincy. If Lindsay really wanted those diamonds, it would be easier to steal them as well.

They walked around side by side, their shoulders touching, the picture of any well-to-do couple. Michael felt a bit dirty just pretending to be one of the elite, though he knew not all of them were assholes, in their city, the majority of them were. Almost like some Hunger Games shit, the privileged few watching the rest of them fight it out to survive.

“If this all goes to plan hopefully Ryan will calm down,” he pointed out. “At the moment not even Jeremy can get through to him.”

Lindsay hummed, and leaned over to inspect another cabinet.

“He’s been getting worse,” Michael added. “I always knew he’d take it worse than any of us, but Jeremy’s certain there’s something more going on. God knows the guy’s got enough issues to think he’d be a bit possessive, but this isn’t just that, he really seems to hate Gavin. Not saying I _like_ him necessarily, what with him being a little mystery man and all that, but it’s not like he’s a particularly overbearing presence. I don’t think I’ve even seen him for more than ten seconds since the other day. At the moment, hating him seems like hating a… I dunno, a stray _mouse_ or something.”

Lindsay gestured to a member of staff, saying she wanted to try some of the rings on, acting like every other customer, helping them blend in, while also probably enjoying trying on all the sparkly things.

“Not everyone can be as nonchalant as you.” She turned her wrist around in the light, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “The most you ever had to worry about before coming here was if you wanted pizza or McDonald’s for dinner.”

“I know fully well who I am and that is a very different person from Ryan. Just saying, after all these years with us, he might find it a bit easier to talk to someone.”

“No,” Lindsay replied, firmly. “We can’t judge him. And you say I’m dumb - how long is nine years really after everything he went through?”

“But it’s _Jeremy_ ,” Michael insisted, following after her as she went to inspect another display case. “He loves Jeremy more than anything… I guess I just thought nothing would ever come between those two.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around given enough time,” Lindsay said. “He does love Jeremy. And he trusts him. He _will_ talk. He just obviously needs a little more time for this one, and seeing as Gavin won’t be leaving any time soon, he’s gonna have to get used to him. All we can do is try and limit the number of glasses smashed - though I’ll take that over him punching the walls like he used to, those cracks were so annoying to cover up, and that landlord was an asshole.”

Michael looked at her a while, then nodded, and Lindsay squeezed his arm.

“You really think Gavin’s going to stick around all that long?” he asked. “I always feel like he’s plotting his escape while he’s hiding in his room.”

Lindsay nodded. He pulled a face, but shrugged.

“I’ll take your word for it, crazy lady,” he murmured.

“It’s just the truth,” Lindsay said, simply.

Michael smiled.

“You know I’d usually say when you’re right, you’re wrong… but for some reason I think you’ve got a better sense than me on this one,” he said. “So for once, when you’re right, you’re right.”

He tried to imagine what would happen if Gavin did stick around. Right now, he found it hard to see it working out. Better they find somewhere else for him to stay, really.

_It doesn’t feel right_ , Michael thought, having the man around when he wasn’t exactly a guest, when they couldn’t exactly let him waltz out whenever he pleased. _Geoff’s still adamant on that, only those who need to know can know._

“If he does stick around it’d be nice to know him a bit better,” he said instead. “I can taste the awkwardness sometimes. He doesn’t have to tell us his life story. I’ll take talking to him about movies or games or sports - assuming he has an opinion on anything other than robbery. I’ll take that over the constant silence.”

Lindsay gave him a small, understanding smile.

“You could have a conversation with a rock,” she teased.

“Least I know how to act around a rock,” Michael replied, deadpan. “Sitting there being all stony and shit.”

Lindsay just smiled fondly. Michael found he couldn’t look away from her, how alive and bright and _warm_ she looked, a comfort even when he felt so out of his comfort in a place like this.

“One day,” Michael began. “I’ll be able to buy you this whole store.”

Lindsay looked away then. She was busy scanning the store, but there was also something else.

“I don’t need any of this to be happy,” she said, and though the words sounded true enough, and she’s said them many times before, Michael still struggled a little to truly believe them.

This wasn’t the life he’d promised her. He’d promised excitement, and they certainly weren’t lacking in that department. But he’d also promised to give her a life full of riches and wonders, a villa in the hills with a huge garden and maybe even a couple horses, anything she wanted, _more_. He’d been young and dumb and full to the brim with the excitement of feeling love for the first time,but that didn’t mean he took those promises any less seriously. Though, it seemed Lindsay so easily brushed them away now, like they were another one of his jokes.

Suddenly, Lindsay stopped in her tracks and made a u-turn. Michael span around, alert - walking quicker to keep up the pace.

“They’re here,” Lindsay whispered to him, letting out a small laugh. “Can’t believe we actually found them. You know I was kind bullshitting when I said I knew which stores would have them, I just wanted to see what would happen - didn’t want to ruin Gavin’s flow.”

Michael glanced back to cast a gaze across the nearest display cabinets, spotting a few dark colored gems that took center stage. He supposed that was them - Lindsay appeared certain, although now he finds out that apparently she hadn’t even been sure of what she was talking about.

He bumped her shoulder gently, shaking his head in fond bemusement. It was so typical, that she would hit the jackpot while also not really having a fully fledged idea of what was going on.

“You’re a fucking freak,” he told her - and she nudged him back, with some force.

“Whatever, you can’t complain if it worked,” she shot back. “Now come on! My reward is that we carry on with this game of make-believe.”

Michael stood and watched as, instead of leaving, his wife marched straight up to one of the counters and demanded to try more on. He took a backseat while she went through the whole charade, talking about colors and designs and if she could have the sizes adjusted, before going ahead and asking the staff member to put a number of items on reserve for her.

“So now they’ll be expecting us back,” she said, when they eventually made it out. “Also that girl was definitely new. You should never let someone try on more than one piece at a time. Hopefully she’s one of the staff when we come back.”

Michael looked to her, impressed.

“I’m surprised you didn’t help yourself then, if it was so easy,” he said. He felt rather than saw the glare on him, and raised his hands in defense. “Calm down! I know your code as well as you do. Girl was most likely innocent, stealing would only get her in trouble. Only take shit directly from the real assholes.”

“Correct,” Lindsay said, linking arms with him.

They strolled back slowly to their car, relaxed now they’d completed the first part of the mission; happy that they’d have good news for the others when they got home.

“Oh,” Michael said, and gave a wide smile. “I’m definitely going to tell the others you were bullshitting. Again.”

“Well then,” she replied, calmly. “I guess I’ll have to tell Jeremy you turned one of his favorite shirt’s pink.”

Michael’s lips twitched. Neither one of them would go through with the threat. That was how it worked, within their little family they had each other's backs; loved all the guys with their whole hearts, but Michael and Lindsay were just… Michael and Lindsay.

_One day you’ll give her everything,_ he thought this time. He’d yet to break a promise to her, and that was most definitely one he aimed to keep.

_One day. One day you’ll give her the life she deserves._

But for now, they still had a food budget. And seeing as he could feel his stomach already complaining –

“So… pizza or McDonalds?”

* * *

 

The roof provided a welcome break from the small bedroom, the apartment block tall enough that it gave him a good all-around view of the city. The guys were busy preparing for tomorrow, where they were going to be putting Gavin’s suggestion into action, the reality of which was still hitting him hard. He struggled to come up for a reason for why he'd acted as he had and was completely stunned how everything seemed to have snowballed into them actually robbing a jewellery store, putting trust in Gavin when he’d done nothing to deserve it, and not even pushing him to demand answers as to why he exactly possessed such knowledge. They were, however, definitely acting a bit different around him, more cautiously perhaps.

To tell the truth, it had just started with him wanting to here if they really were all they said they were, listening in on them when he knew Geoff had sent him away for a reason; come one, he wasn’t born yesterday, with Trevor turning up and all of the others with a certain eagerness about them, he’d known it wasn’t just a casual get-together. Would never had expected what he’d heard, though, sure Geoff had already told him they helped people out - never would have imagined on just what scale the man had been talking, nothing involving such danger, and it had been the whole shock of hearing it that had dulled his brain. It hadn’t been until Ryan had kindly smashed a glass that he’d been jerked back into his senses, and realized with horror what he’d just said and done.

So now the air inside felt more constricting than before, and seeing as he had no idea how to actually leave yet the fucking building yet, he’d done the next best thing. And not just the roof, he’d climbed up even higher, to the highest point on the apartment block, some concrete structure that was probably something to do with ventilation.

He was sat, swinging his legs over the very edge, nothing but air between his feet and the sidewalk, when Alfredo came to find him. 

“You’re up there?” Gavin heard him yell. “That’s kinda scary.”

The boy came to stand by the railing that lined the lower roof and gazed up. Gavin surprised himself by grinning, unable to help it as he took in the open-mouthed stare.

He was the only one who’s view on Gavin hadn’t seemed to have changed. He was clearly curious - but then he had been before, from the moment he’d first set eyes on him. There was no wariness - no lingering, searching glances or pointed remarks, just that same eager, excited energy.

Gavin could understand the others shift of attitude towards him, would honestly be more uneasy if they acted like everything was still the same. But for someone who’d never found it easy living in a communal space, having one person like Alfredo around made things infinitely easier. The only one he didn’t feel on edge around.

_Don’t get too attached._

As dumb as it sounded, he didn’t want to like Alfredo too much. It was easy to, but Gavin was not going to risk that same pain again, of making a connection with someone when he knew that it wouldn’t last. That was one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made. 

He watched as Alfredo paced about at the back of the tower. The boy looked up in concentration, reaching an arm out to test out the metal piping. He looked a little worried as he started to climb, but Gavin could see the fierce determination in his eyes.

“Gavin!” He called out once he made it to the top. “Look! I did it too!”

“So it seems you have,” Gavin couldn’t help drawling, and saw Alfredo give a wry grin.

He crawled forward, too nervous to stand up; crept up until he was a foot or so away and then practically glued himself into Gavin’s side, eyes wide as he leaned forward to peer down over the edge. It surprised Gavin again how he didn’t flinch away at the sudden contact, something absurdly familiar about it.

He didn’t do human contact, he didn’t like it, made him uncomfortable, normally anyway.

After a few more seconds of staring, the boy shuffled back and turned his head to Gavin.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Gavin replied.

There was a quiet moment where they both just watched the city, although nothing could ever be quiet about this place. Construction was still going on all around them, seagulls screeching as they circled the skies above. A cacophony of traffic sounds, air horns from the ships in the harbor, all echoing up to the empty rooftop.

It made Gavin feel very small. He kind of liked it. 

“I come here too… I mean, not this high, but I like coming up to the roof,” Alfredo explained, and smiled at him again - openly and easily, his eyes bright.

“I seem to have invaded your space a lot recently,” Gavin said.

“Yep, you definitely have,” Alfredo replied. He couldn’t seem to stop beaming.

_I don’t care._ That was the clear signal Alfredo was sending him, and Gavin had to turn away. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair. There was something very innocent about the boy and just by accepting his hand of friendship, Gavin felt like he was lying to him.

_Whoever he thinks you are… you’re not. You will never be._

“Gavin?” Alfredo said then, and tilted his head inquisitively, voice hesitant. “Are you scared?”

Gavin’s breath hitched. “No. What makes you think that?” he asked, watching the boy carefully. Alfredo was still smiling, but there was something almost attentive in his eyes. Gavin wasn’t sure if it was intentional - he looked away quickly, but could still feel that gaze on him.

“I dunno, I just thought…” Alfredo replied softly. Then, after a moment, “You’re in a strange city with even stranger people.”

Funny, that he would call them strange, not the actual stranger who barely spoke a word. Gavin took a moment longer to hold back the rush of emotions that suddenly pummelled him.

Alfredo didn’t say anything, quiet while he watched Gavin take a number of deep breaths - ready with another soft smile when Gavin managed to look at him again.

“Yeah, you’re a right bunch of weirdos,” he said finally, flatly.

That made the boy laugh; Gavin laughed too, embarrassed a bit by how weak it sounded. It wasn’t just that it had been so _long_ since he’d laughed for real, but it still pained his throat a little too.

Gavin hummed pleasantly as a cool breeze swept around them.

“It seems like a good thing you’ve got going here,” he said, a little hesitantly at first. “Living in a place like this, doing what you do, with the others. You all seem to… get along very well.”

“Oh yeah, they’re the best,” Alfredo confirmed. “Took me in, like, didn’t even care if I could help them or not, they just wanted to help me.”

“I’m sorry if I betrayed anyone’s trust,” Gavin said, finding the words come easier now. “Well, and for saying anything really, I don’t know what came over me. It probably sounded like a really crap excuse. I just… you’re all really good people.”

“You’re not used to meeting good people,” Alfredo said, a statement not a question.

“I don’t know.” Gavin knew it was a pathetic answer; like another excuse not to talk, dodging every subject. But in a way it was true. “I used to think certain things about certain people… but now I don’t know if I was right.”

“That sounds confusing,” Alfredo said, frowning a little.

“I know,” Gavin replied. “I mean… I don’t know…” he trailed off, and Alfredo tilted his head to him again.

“I know I was scared when I first came here,” the boy continued thoughtfully. “Well, maybe not scared, I felt safer than I had done in a long time. I guess it was more of a confusion, like, I didn’t know how to be a part of a normal family and I was worried I’d mess it up. That make any sense?”

“I can understand that,” Gavin said. _He has no idea how much._

“But now it’s all good!” Alfredo exclaimed. “Now I’m everyone’s favorite!”

Gavin laughed.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh before up here,” Alfredo said, sounding amused, and Gavin’s face flushed, a little embarrassed again. He shrugged.

“Laughing makes you look different. Ryan’s kinda the same.”

“Ryan,” Gavin said suddenly, looking up. “I didn’t mean to anger him. If there’s anything I can do - I don’t want to get in anyone’s way.”

The man had reacted in such a way earlier, throwing a glass, smashing it on the floor. He hadn’t aimed it at Gavin, though Gavin had a suspicion that was only because the man had still had some control. There was almost a desperation to his actions - charging from the room so quickly, not giving anyone the chance to react, basically been absent ever since. His hatred for Gavin was evident - didn’t mean Gavin enjoyed seeing him like this. It was Ryan’s home after all, not Gavin’s.

Alfredo raised an eyebrow. “It’s not your fault. He thinks he’s mad cause you're here, but that ain’t right.” Now it was his turn to look away, pausing a moment before pointing.

“You know what people call that building?” he asked, switching Gavin’s attention to a glass cube down below sitting in the middle of a park.

“The cube?” Gavin guessed, trying to work out what it was. This city was weird, how the neighborhoods were so vastly different from the other. The one they were in, for example, was full of tower blocks and skyscrapers, all glass like a maze of mirrors. But then to the south, he could just about make out tightly squashed together townhouses, and to the north, a handful of grand mansions and villas dotted about the green hills.

“Well, that might be the official name for it,” Alfredo admitted. “But the name that everyone calls it is The Slime, but that name makes more sense when it’s dark.”

“Let me guess,” Gavin murmured. “It lights up green.”

Alfredo nodded. “Geoff says it’s zombie-powered. He said that they built it on top of an old cemetery; that when they dug down into the ground they disturbed the corpses, and that they almost shut the project down cause three people got eaten alive! But _then_ they realized that the zombie blood actually held a lot of energy they could use to power the building, and it could keep, like, reproducing itself even if they drained them completely. So they decided to use them instead; they connected all these wires into the bodies to keep them down but also get the blood from them. And now that’s why the cube glows green at night. It’s zombie blood.”

“That’s what you call green energy,” Gavin commented.

“Uh-huh,” Alfredo said, and laughed. “I don’t really believe any of that shit. But it’s fun to.”

“I envy you, I’ve never had much of an imagination, pretty boring really,” Gavin admitted. Then, cautiously, “You honestly don’t mind me being here then?”

Alfredo opened his mouth to reply straight away, but after a moment paused.

“No, but do you mind being here?” he asked, voice low.

Gavin swallowed. He honestly didn’t know what he wanted, other than to stay hidden - he supposed it was nice… in the way that living in a small, well-furnished cage for the rest of his life would be nice.

“I don’t know what Geoff’s said to you, but whatever he said, he means it,” Alfredo said, honestly.“And I know something bad must’ve happened… for you to get here, I mean. The others always tell me not to say anything around you. And I won’t, you can tell me to shut up if you want. But it’s not like you don’t know we’re talking about you when you’re not there, y’know, it’s not like you’re stupid… I dunno, I just wanted to put it out there. I ain’t gonna judge you.”

“Okay,” Gavin whispered, but he could hear his own uncertainty. Everything was just getting so much more complicated than he’d anticipated. He was taking Geoff’s offer to stay until he’d figured shit out; it seemed that the longer he stayed, however, the less of a clue he had about anything.

And then again with his dumb self unable to mind its own business. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how natural it had felt to jump right in with his own opinion of how things should play out. When he’d made the split-second decision to run from his old life he had absolutely no conception of how he would handle suddenly having _nothing,_ not just his physical surroundings changing but mentally, he wasn’t at all prepared.

_You’ve lost your purpose._ _You’re nothing._

“Hey, do you wanna know what the coolest building in this city is?” Alfredo asked, distracting him, as if he could sense the loss the older man was feeling.

“Alright,” Gavin replied, managing a ghost of a smile. “Which one?”

“It’s called The Wonky House. It’s like this old-school pub down in Old Sanders. That’s where Jeremy grew up. OS is crazy, but it’s usually good crazy. Just like Jeremy.”

Gavin smiled a little wider.

“Jeremy took us there once with his old man,” the boy continued. “Picture this, it’s a perfectly normal looking building, ‘cept one side’s been sunk into the ground, so everything’s at an angle. The floor, the walls, the bar, everything! Not really the greatest design when there’s a lot of drinks and drunk Irishmen around. But it sure as hell looks cool.”

Gavin had vague memories of going to the pub, a place he hadn’t visited since leaving England. Their local and been small, dingy, dark carpets and smoke-stained walls - wooden tables that his little hands would stick to, a Jack Russell terrier that would sit on the bar. His mother would take him there sometimes when she’d meet up with a friend who had a little boy Gavin’s age. What was that kid’s name? Dan was it? Funny, he hadn’t thought about him in a good while - wondered what he’d be doing now. Probably living a normal life, in a normal home, with a normal job, and a normal family.

“Geoff says that people mined too deep for iron under it so the ground shifted,” Alfredo was still explaining. “Geoff has loads of stories about this place. I can get him to tell you them too, if you want. Or he could tell you the more useful stuff, if you want to find a place of your own. It’s hard to find a nice place to live that’s cheap, especially if you don’t know the right people - but Geoff’ll help you with that.”

“So you’ll let me out of here?” Gavin asked, smiling a little teasingly.

“Course we’ll let you out. I just don’t know yet if he’ll _show_ you how to get out. Secrecy and all that.”

“I understand. Doing what you do must mean you’re on a few people’s watch list.”

“I guess so, I don’t really think about it too much… Honestly, everything’s more of an extra precaution than anything. They had a bad experience a while ago, before I joined…” Alfredo trailed off, lifted a hand, wiggling his fingers through the breeze. “It’s easy to stay hidden in this city. But it’s easy to get lost too, so many people can just disappear and no one does anything. That’s why I like it up here, seeing so far. Just feels more free…”

He trailed off again, gesturing towards the harbor. Looking, Gavin could see a large cruise liner coming in to dock. “They stop here for maintenance and to change crew. But no passengers ever get off. They prefer to pretend we’re not here. Like most of the world does, don’t I know it. Sure there’s the one percent up in the Hills and Upper West, but for everyone else, hardly no one gives a fuck.”

“I see,” Gavin said, solemnly. He supposed as a kid things hadn’t been all that different, but then everything had changed and he’d been launched into a life very few could ever relate to. What was he now then? He wasn’t that little kid living in that two roomed apartment where eating three meals a day was considered a treat, and he refused to be the man that kid had turned into anymore. Now he was just in a kind of limbo. A little confused, a little scared, a little lost.

Alfredo nudged his arm, then. He smiled a bit sheepishly, but directed Gavin’s gaze to a bunch of buildings too far away to make out clearly, on the outskirts, the outlines hazy from the heat rays. He looked to Gavin with interest.

“That’s how you started out in Achievement City,” he continued. “We all know you were hiding underneath a bus - that’s another thing I’m not meant to talk about with you, but whatever - that’s a pretty shitty way to arrive here…”

Gavin was silent as the boy pulled something out of his pocket.

“What is this?” Gavin asked, as Alfredo handed it to him. “What am I looking at?”

“That’s where you were twelve days ago,” Alfredo continued, a hint of excitement in his voice. “It’s the old factory district. A ghost town now, only squatters there, and that’s where you fell off –”

“I didn’t fall,” Gavin cut in. “Some drunk lady made it throw me off.”

“Alright, we’ll go with that,” Alfredo said, smirking at Gavin, who easily returned it. “I went back there the other day and took this photo,” he informed him, while Gavin turned the printed off picture in his hands. An empty street with red brick, graffiti-covered walls both sides, trash littering the ground.

“What for?” Gavin asked.

“I wanted to see if that old camera worked,” Alfredo replied, but then gave him a serious look. “And I thought it would be good if you could see. A lot’s changed in twelve days. Look now, you’re sitting on top of an apartment block on the other side of the city… I know this probably isn’t the place you wanted to end up. I know people only ever come here if it’s a last resort, or they’re on the run. It’s not exactly New York or LA is it? But I just wanted you to see, just cause it’s poor and it’s over-crowded and your chances of getting shot or stabbed are about ten percent higher than the next city; don’t mean it’s all bad.”

There was a drawn-out silence; Gavin could see in his face that he believed it, that he wanted Gavin to see what he saw.

“Geoff told me something else too,” Alfredo continued finally. “He said that adversity breeds character. This place, Achievement City – for us, I think in a weird way it’s made us all better people. And I’m not saying you’re lucky, cause I still don’t really know anything, but whatever happened made you end up here, and we got to meet you, and you helped us out with this job so it won’t be as dangerous. I think that makes me kinda lucky.”

“You’re nice,” Gavin mumbled. “You’re… you’re all really nice.”

“We’re just people who try to do the right thing,” Alfredo said, suddenly sounding a lot more like Geoff than Gavin would have ever expected him to. “You put good out into the world and sometimes you get a little bit back. I think you helping us with this whole stolen jewelry thing is that good something.”

“It was just me sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong,” was Gavin’s only reasoning, but he had proven in the past that he was excellent at keeping out of people’s way if it didn’t concern him, and that the other day had been the first time he’d gotten involved in something purely by his own choice; no orders, just him wanting to provide some help.

“I don’t believe that,” Alfredo called him out. “If that was the case you would’ve long gone through all my stuff. Trust me, I’d set traps in case you did.”

“Noted,” Gavin said, amused. “And I should really move out anyway. I’ll sleep on the couch, or on the floor, I don’t mind at all.”

A thoughtful expression crossed the boy’s face briefly, and then, an eager one. “I think I will move back in. But you have to stay too. We can flip a coin to see who has to sleep on the airbed,” he said.

There was a pause. Although he thought he’d been doing a _fairly_ good job at staying composed, this latest proposal threw him off, unable to stop the way his eyes widened or the way his jaw dropped slightly; that Alfredo had so easily seemed to accept that Gavin was a part of his life now, even with Gavin himself so uncertain of everything, lost. He swallowed back the sudden lump in his throat, but could see on Alfredo’s face that he’s spotted the pain lingering there. _Been here twelve days. How long was it before anyone accepted you all those years ago? Had anyone really, besides your father…_

“Whoever you were before you got here, it don’t mean nothing now, if you don’t want it to,” Alfredo spoke up softly. “You’re here now. Being lost ain’t always a bad thing, just gives you more of an excuse to go exploring… and if there’s one thing this city isn’t lacking it’s adventure.”

The words were surprisingly reassuring. Gavin looked out towards the ocean again, the way the sun shone off the rippling water, its golden light warped in the twisted, glass waves. Beside him, Alfredo moved, sitting a little closer and turning to look out too. Before long, they’d been sitting there so long the sun had started to set, the golden light turning a shade more orange, and Gavin felt his face grow warm as the breeze dropped and the gentle heat of the sun surged through him.

And then, it hit him.

_You were wrong again._

He thought he’d wanted to run away and become a nobody. But that wasn’t him, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. When he’d left his old life behind, he’d left his sense of purpose, corrupt as it was. But somehow, through no intent of his own, there were whisperings of something new on the horizon.

“I’ve never been out to sea,” he told Alfredo, with clear yearning.

“It can get kind of choppy out there,” the boy said, and sent him another cheeky grin. “But Jeremy knows a good place to go out. And if there’s one thing I know about Jeremy, he’s always up for an adventure.”

Alfredo watched the ocean some more, before Gavin watched him cautiously descend back down to the roof, barely holding back his laughter when the boy started squealing about flying insects. He chose to stay up a while longer. There was a lot he needed to think over - what he should do, what he wanted, what came next, a whole host of questions with no simple answer. He looked further out, to where the sea met the horizon, two blues merging together giving the impression of a world never-ending, and he realized one thing - he wasn’t the sort of person who could simply hide and work a normal, everyday job. Maybe he’d been born that way or maybe circumstance had molded him, but he knew deep down that he’d never be able to live what was considered a “normal” life.

Before, he’d quenched that first by following the orders given to him, but now there were no orders. There were no rules. But he may very well have found a group of people who’d be able to help him in that regard.

He knew he was far from out of the woods, but maybe the woods he was in at the moment weren’t as dark and dense as he’d initially thought. Perhaps there were just a few more paths opened to him than he’d expected.

Funny, what you can come across when you feel like you’re at your most lost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there're the first two setup chapters done!
> 
> Bit later than expected with the update, but there's no real strict schedule for this. Most likely chapters will be posted every 1-2 weeks. Excited for the next chapter, going to be delving more deeply into Ryan's character and building on Gavin's relationships with everybody!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's left kudos or commented already! <3


	3. Chapter 3

Michael found Jack sitting, pouring over the logbook in the main room. It was dawn, and it was the day they were going to be hitting the jewelry store, the man obviously tense as he leaned against the window turning the pages over with one finger scanning the writing. Michael wondered if he’d gone to sleep, after all they’d been up late last night, going over the plan, checking and re-checking with Gavin, all of them except Lindsay going into this completely inexperienced.

Jack glanced up at his approach, lifting his glasses up to rub at tired eyes, the picture of exhaustion. Michael moved forward and sat down on the floor next to him.

“Hoping to find any inspiration in there?” he asked, and Jack looked up and smiled, briefly.

“I don’t know, I just wanted to see… you know the last time we ever did something remotely similar to this was three years ago,” he told him, and laughed hoarsely, but with the morning light behind him highlighting his whole head, making it look like the reddish hair was aglow. On fire. Determined. Michael knew that however he was feeling now, when push came to shove he’d be as strong as ever.

“You’re talking about those warehouses,” he began, slowly. “The ones we stole the security tapes from?”

Jack hummed quietly.

“And we almost fucked it up,” he recalled. Michael waited, patiently, and after a moment Jack sighed and continued. “I know we’re better than we were then. That we’re more experienced and better equipped. But we're still _nothing_ , Michael. All this work, all these years. We’re still so small… compared to fucking everything else. It’s just having Burnie… this place too, can make me feel like we’re more. Not that I’m not proud, _I am_. I’ve seen the change we’ve managed to make to people’s lives. Some days I still can’t believe quite how far we’ve come. But in reality all we’ve taken is a few steps forward into this fucking marathon. Hard earned steps, no doubt. I guess this is all just a bit daunting. I mean, this will get people _talking_.”

Michael bit his lip. He could see what Jack meant, and he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit this whole plan had him shitting himself. Dumb as it sounded, going down to The Warrens would have at least been more familiar; their work was done in the shadows, not in the middle of the day in the richest district of AC. Criminals they could take out; the police, a bit more tricky to handle. All he could do was reach out and squeeze Jack’s shoulder. That seemed to help.

“At least Ryan behaved last night,” he said, and Michael barked out a laugh.

“You see the glares he was sending, though?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack said, and smiled, a little sadly. “I know we’ve all got to adjust with Gavin being around, but it should go both ways. If he’s sticking around for a while then him and Ryan are going to have to sort things out.”

Michael couldn’t agree more. He glanced down at the book, a great tome of a thing Jack had kept since the beginning. Every job each and every one of them had ever worked, every important detail surrounding it, was written down in those pages, from locating a stolen dog to tracking down a kidnapped teenager, getting rid of a rodent infestation to “taking care of” ruthless criminals.

“Geoff certainly gave Gavin a pop quiz last night,” Michael said, finally. “Either the guy’s the best liar in the world or he’s more than competent at this whole thieving business.”

Jack gave a tired chuckle.

“Well, at least according to Fredo he hasn’t tried to steal anything from his room yet.”

Michael laughed too. Thinking about how the boy had gone into great detail explaining the “traps” he’d set up just in case.

“Wouldn’t be any point, would there?” he said. “Technically he’s still our prisoner. Though I was wondering if Geoff was gonna let him out for this one. Could do to have him with us.”

They hadn’t really spoken about it yet, with everything that had been going on. But if he was going to stay with them, he assumed they were going to have the decency to not keep him locked up forever.

“Or maybe not,” he continued. “We don’t want Ryan to go smashing anything. As good a distraction as that could be, I don’t think Trevor could get him out of that one. Police sure do love to go all out when it’s some rich folk involved, right?” He saw a flash of pain cross Jack’s face and winced, nudging him gently with his elbow. “Hey - this’ll be one to tell your dad.”

“Oh, he’s gonna love it,” Jack murmured. “He’s been going on forever about how we should go to the Upper West to cause a bit of trouble, for no other reason than pissing them off.”

“Anyone would think he had a bone to pick with rich businessmen!”

“With the way his own work is going, he’s gonna be a rich businessman himself soon,” Jack mused. “You know I actually saw him in a suit the other day?”

“You better watch out for him,” Michael said. “He’ll be trying to buy himself out soon, send local thugs to steal and vandalize his own supplies.”

“God, sometimes those days seem like only yesterday,” Jack replied, something a little sad in it.

Michael smiled sympathetically.

“Going back to Ryan,” he said, quietly. “Lindsay’s sure he’ll come around. That he just needs more time - we just gotta look after him until then.”

“I like that she’s ever the optimist.” Jack sent him a knowing look. “Both of you - can always rely on you two to keep things in perspective.”

“Don’t let Lindsay hear that,” Michael laughed. “She might get it into her head that she’s a normal human. Then who knows what’ll happen? You could say goodbye to a private life,” he added. “She’d probably start setting up Twitter accounts for all of us, ‘hey guys, just going to interrogate someone!’”

Jack laughed, and after a moment they both rose, Michael walking over to the couch, peering at the blanket mound. Kid was still completely out of it, hadn’t stirred a bit while they’d been talking. He resisted the urge to jump on him. Both Alfredo and Lindsay would have two of the most important roles, seemed only right he let the boy sleep some more, plus if he did wake him up in such a way the screams that were sure to follow would have everyone else up early too, and a rudely awoken _Jeremy_ posed a much greater threat.

“You two up already?” Michael turned as Geoff staggered in, half asleep.

“Did you hear your snores last night?” Jack asked, with a wry grin.

“I do not snore!” Geoff cried, pointing a finger at Michael, as if the fact that Michael was prone to snoring let him off the hook. “I rest thoroughly.”

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now.” Jack was still laughing, a great deal calmer than when Michael had first walked in, and Geoff too seemed pretty relaxed at the moment.

“Today’s the day then, boys!” he marveled. “I’ll wake Gavin up soon. Be good to go over everything a couple more times. Just to be sure.”

Michael felt he already knew his part front to back, the amount they’d gone over it last night. Lindsay always said too, that anything like this was always half improvisation, a statement Gavin had readily agreed with, the two of them actually sharing a small smile, something of a common ground forming between them.

“We’re leaving him here then,” Michael said, flopping down into a chair. “I was thinking you might want to bring him along. Or is his probation period still not over?”

Geoff huffed and rolled his eyes. This whole situation with Gavin - and maybe he felt even more pressure because he was the one who’d brought him here - he had yet to come to a firm conclusion about the man. And by that, it meant what the hell they were going to tell him. About everything.

He already knew a lot. Probably more, it was hard to keep secrets from a shadow, and he’d proven more than once that he was one stealthy motherfucker. Then again, Michael at least found it very hard to see him as any kind of threat to what they did.

The guy was a nobody in this city, and clearly, didn’t want any kind of trouble with anybody. But he respected Geoff for his precautions - Gavin couldn’t exactly complain, anyway, Michael had no doubt he was relieved to just have a roof over his head for the time being.

“I hope Ryan got some sleep,” Geoff said, and yawned loudly.

Ryan had arguably the riskiest role to play that day; a mistake on his end could mean game over, and he’d be the one to pay for it.

“If he got an hour, he’ll be good,” Michael mentioned, flicking the TV on low. “It’s Jeremy you should be worried about. He’s the one who’s got actual lines.”

They all laughed, fondly.

“What was it he said last night?” Jack recalled. “But what’s my motivation for buying jewelry? I’ve gotta have a good backstory, right?”

Michael chuckled in remembrance on the younger man’s jitteriness, He could understand the nerves all too well, but the way Jeremy had gone on you would have thought they were trying out for Juilliard. He was just going to try and do what Lindsay said - whatever happens, look as if it were intended. Confidence was more important than anything.

“You feeling good?” he checked with Jack.

“Yeah,” the man replied. “I always do.”

“You were having doubts?” Geoff reached out and touched Jack’s arm, briefly - concern written over his face, ever worried about everyone.

“Not so much doubts as a sudden realization about the absurdity of this all,” Jack said, and then grinned. “But then I remembered that my whole life is already absurd so this fits right in.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Geoff returned the smile in relief, glad that everybody seemed to be going into this job with that same confidence.

Gavin had actually helped a lot on that front, surprising everyone last night with how into detail he’d gone. He’d explained everything clearly. Even Michael had been able to understand what everyone was going to be doing and how it would all play together.

“We’re not about to break our winning streak now,” he said.

The older two made similar noises of agreement, and Geoff went to make some coffee while Jack sat down in a chair opposite Michael, setting the logbook down on the coffee table. He was quiet for a while, switching between smirking at the blanket mound every time it moved to gazing thoughtfully out of the window.

“Hey, Jack,” Michael said eventually, once Geoff had left the room again. “What do you think Gavin likes?”

“Likes? What you mean, like food? Movies? Girls?” Jack asked, bemused.

“Well, the first two anyway.” Michael saw Jack raise an eyebrow, and shrugged his shoulders casually.

“I just wanna get to know the guy. Didn’t wanna make it seem like I was interrogating him, though. Thought it’d be good to just go, ‘Hey, I really like so and so’ and then we’d be set.”

“You really are the biggest softie here, aren’t you? You just hide behind me,” Jack chuckled. Michael rolled his eyes, glancing up as the blanket mound suddenly came to life.

“Oh my God, Fredo, you slept in so late you missed the great opal robbery,” Michael teased, and a pair of eyes blinked at him.

Jack laughed, looking fondly between the two of them. Alfredo whining that they were invading his room, Michael countering that he was taking up his favorite spot on the couch.

“Gavin - I think he likes climbing,” the boy mumbled, after. “And I think he likes the ocean, too.”

“Oh?” Jack said. He looked to Michael, who pulled a face, not quite sure what to do with that information. “How’d you figure that out?”

Alfredo sighed before sitting up, rubbing a fist in his eyes. He picked up one of the pillows and hugged it to his chest, resting his head on top.

“You should,” he began. “You two - you should talk to him. It ain’t that hard. He’s real nice…” he cut himself off with a big yawn, and then continued.

Michael wondered when Gavin had apparently been so open. Couldn’t even imagine it right now. 

“I had a weird dream,” the boy murmured sleepily. “There was… Jeremy was at a jewelry store, and he was trying to buy a ring for Ryan. But all the staff had waffles for heads, and when Jeremy touched a ring he turned into a t-rex and took a giant bite out of the top of one of them so he died and they had a funeral.”

Michael bit back a laugh. He sounded so serious reciting this tale, though he was still half asleep, and it didn’t help that Jack was nodding along seriously too.

“Well, that bodes well for today,” the man quipped in a low voice, and poked Alfredo in his ribs with his foot, not stopping until the ensuing laughter had woken the boy up some more. “Go on, crazy. Go and wake your new best friend up for us.”

* * *

 

Ryan sat in the workshop, bent over the wooden table, a bright spotlight illuminating everything he had laid out. It wasn’t so much a workshop as a small room next to the laundry room. It was where they stored most of their equipment, though, the stuff they didn’t have to loan from Matt. He liked it in here, it had a different feel to the rest of the apartment - a more raw look and feel and smell, the one room they hadn’t bothered decorating. It was for purely practical purposes.

He was just checking that they would have everything they needed, a small crick in his neck from leaning down so long. There wasn’t much, and that unnerved him a little.

Going down to The Warrens would have been a far more violent path to take, he admitted that, but violence was not something he shied away from. He knew how to use a weapon, could handle himself in a fight - had learned to survive in the most brutal of situations. Going for the _stealthy option_ , it was not something he was used to. Granted, he wasn’t going to be the one doing all the talking and distracting but he would still have to fly under the radar.

Been a while since he’d used a lockpick, for something as finicky as this. God, it was going to be so fiddly, and he was going to have to be so quiet, as well as fast, and be prepared to make it look as if he were just browsing if anyone interrupted him beforehand.

But he could do it, he knew he could.

When he heard the door open behind him, he called out without looking.

“I’m not sulking! I’m working!”

“Jeremy says he’s going down to his girls.”

The soft accent made him freeze, lowering his hands to the table and balling them up. It was Gavin, the little fuck having the nerve to slip quietly into the room. He remained by the door, hunching over a bit at Ryan’s glare. He was dressed all in black, like he’d raided Geoff’s closet, dark hood pulled up over his head.

“You.”

He moved towards him. There was something almost terrifying about the familiarity he felt when he looked at the man, like he was back there all of a sudden, in the dark. In the shadows cast by Ryan’s own figure blocking the main light, it felt like he was every part at home, a living shadow.

He stopped and stood towering over Gavin, and the other man stared up at him. He looked anxious, but there was something about his expression that read unafraid. He wasn’t scared of Ryan, this whole show of intimidation didn’t have him cowering, someone used to being under threat –

Ryan never felt more justified in his distrust, seeing right through the nervous front the man tried to hide behind.

“Why are you still here?”

Gavin let out a short breath, like a cross between a huff and a laugh, and Ryan’s frown deepened. He took a final step forward so they were almost touching and glared coldly down at him. Gavin swallowed and shrank in on himself further, but he never dropped his gaze from Ryan’s.

He understood the double meaning. Gavin’s whole act was about staying quiet and keeping out of the other’s ways, and yet he hadn’t run from Ryan - perhaps someone else could’ve have been fooled into thinking he was too scared to move but that wasn’t it at all, as Ryan had already deciphered that he was not in fact frightened. And there was also the hint of a threat that Ryan had purposefully added - the man was still here, in their home - and he wasn’t welcome. The other’s might have been taken in by his innocent little charade, but they just couldn’t _see_ what he saw. From the moment he’d set eyes on him, the man had set the hairs on the back of Ryan’s neck rising, made his throat constrict, memories so jarring and brutal that he found it hard to even speak when they hit him.

He’d tried, with Geoff –

Tried to tell the man that this was a mistake. Geoff was a good man, and Ryan respected him as a leader, respected him even more as a friend he could trust. He should have been easy to talk to, to explain why having a man like Gavin living with them would only lead to trouble. But it hadn’t been easy at all. In fact, it had been a complete disaster and had made it seem like Ryan was just being a paranoid asshole, getting hysterical over nothing because that was Ryan and he was damaged and he was broken and he was _a_ _mess_ and they all knew that.

But they still didn’t know everything, and that was part of the problem. The one thing that made him certain of who Gavin really was, was the one thing he’d yet to reveal to anyone. Not even Jeremy, and Ryan trusted him more than anyone, but at the end of the day it didn’t come down to who he trusted or loved. It was about how his body would start shaking and his eyes would widen with terror, every time he even thought about when –

It was like he was a little kid again, small, timid, and frightened. Memories of his mother were scarce, the occasional flash of a blurry figure down the road, the quiet whisperings of a melodic voice in his ear late at night. He didn’t remember what she had looked like. If she had loved him. How life might have been different before she died. His only clear memories were of his father, and that was where the terror came in, where the man he was today was first formed. It was hard to remember a day, if any, where his father hadn’t beaten him.

That had been one of the first things he’d finally revealed about his past to Jeremy.

Many times had the younger man traced a finger across the criss-cross of scars that littered his body, those fingers somehow healing them even now, though some were decades old. The ones that were most prominent, were the oldest, the ones that had stretched and become disfigured, the wounds never being treated properly at the time.

Small. He’d been small, that had always seemed to be his father’s main issue with him, as if he’d ever had any choice in the matter. But yeah, Ryan had been small for his age, very small, and his father had always used that as a go-to when his drunk ass simply felt like slapping the boy around a little. Or a lot.

He remembered telling this to Jeremy, who hadn’t exactly been a towering child himself - or ever, and Jeremy had just reached over and brushed away some of Ryan’s hair that had fallen over his eyes. A tender motion that Ryan hadn’t jerked away from - doing what he could never have imagined himself doing, leaning into it.

Ryan had been nervous, his heart pounding, his hands sweating – 

But he hadn’t run, hadn’t pushed away when Jeremy brushed their lips together in that poignant first kiss. The man had been so gentle, slowly tangling his fingers with Ryan’s, making that kiss surprisingly so much more intimate.

For a while it had been like reality had frozen. He’d kind of just… not known how to react, had never had to react to something like that before. When Ryan thought back on it now it almost felt like the entire thing had been a dream.

But Jeremy was far from a figment of his imagination, and the love he showed him - never a day went by when Ryan wasn’t astounded by it, that this man, this wonderful, _incredible_ man - Jeremy had his heart, and he had Jeremy’s - and it was why even the thought of trying to explain everything to him filled him with dread.

Jeremy was the first to know his demons by their name. Much more too - multiple trips down memory lane, somewhat of a healing process - some things he would most likely never tell anyone else.

But this would be one step too far, it felt like. One step that would drive a wall between them, most likely one built by both parties, because for all his maturity and larger than life personality, Jeremy was still just a young, bright-eyed man.

Unlike Ryan, when Jeremy had been teased by other kids for being the smallest, his father had bought him his very own motorcycle - who cared how tall he was, he was most definitely the coolest kid in class - and no matter how hard they both tried, there would always be that part of him that couldn’t truly understand. And Ryan wanted to keep it that way. Wanted to protect that particular youthfulness; that innocence.

“Get out of here,” he murmured. He’d been staring at Gavin for a while, though his eyes had been going right through the smaller man. Lost in the past. “Next time I catch you sneaking around in here I won’t be so forgiving.”

“I didn’t know, I’m sorry. Jeremy just asked me to tell you that,” Gavin replied, and Ryan grunted, and stood back a little.

“You’ve done a good job playing the lost little puppy for him,” he said. “But you can’t keep it up forever.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Gavin’s whole body was rigid, his gaze still on Ryan. “I’m sorry you don’t like having me here, really. I promise I won’t stick around long - be out of here before you know it - I just need a little more time to figure out things. Then I’ll be gone. You won’t have to see or think of me ever again, I mean it.”

“When will you be gone?” Ryan asked, demandingly.

“Once I’ve spoken to Geoff.” He raised his chin and clenched his jaw. “As soon as I know where I’m going I’ll be off.”

Ryan held his glare for a long time. The words were spoken sincere enough, but that didn’t mean he trusted them. Eventually he turned, moving back to the table without a word to continue with the preparations.

Gavin didn’t leave.

“Now I’m here, do you need any help?” he asked instead.

Ryan’s fists clenched again. _The fucking nerve_ _–_

“No.”

“Okay… I could polish those picks for you.”

“They’re _fine_.” Ryan glanced over the metal set; couldn't’ remember if they’d ever been polished, never really thought about it before. Was that something you were supposed to do regularly.

“Or just the ones you’re taking with you,” Gavin mumbled.

“Fuck’s sake!” Ryan cried. “Fine, do it if it’s bothering you that much.”

“They’ll glide easier,” Gavin muttered, cautiously approaching and looking down. Ryan noticed again how silent every motion was, and frowned when all Gavin did was stare.

“Well?” he asked, impatiently.

“Well… um,” Gavin replied, a funny note in his voice. “I need sandpaper. And metal polish, of course… and WD-40, if you have it?”

Ryan took a deep breath in.

“Any particular grit?” he asked, practically growling.

Gavin shook his head. Ryan marched over to the numerous shelves lining the back wall and busied his hands rummaging through. It was this or punching the man in the face. Even with all his anger towards him, there was still a part of him that was _trying_ not to cause a scene, to keep the other guys happy more than anything.

“These are good lock picks,” Gavin said behind him. “I think I’ve only ever seen one set like this before. And that guy was actually the world champion.”

“A world champion in lock picking?” Ryan couldn’t help saying. “How did you end up with the world champion of lock picking, wait, don’t answer that. You might catch on fire if you tell the truth, or whatever. Anyway, we don’t use them much, haven’t needed too.”

Gavin sighed, tiredly, like he was fed up with Ryan’s perfectly justified accusations.

“It’s not that I don’t like you guys. It’s just… I wouldn’t know where to begin. I just thought it was better for me to say as little as possible so when I am gone it’ll be like I was never here.”

“Makes sense… I guess,” Ryan replied begrudgingly. There was a glum silence, and he added, “Why? How fucked up are you?”

Gavin balked, and his green eyes widened. Ryan’s bluntness was a shock. Something about the hunch in the other man’s shoulders, not to mention how the gaze he’d been managing to hold suddenly dropped, made him wonder if he’d honestly not realized - that Ryan could so clearly see exactly who and what he was.

“I’m not pretending to be anyone I’m not,” Gavin began, “It’s just… just that it’s not that simple, really. I’m trying to start something new… and I don’t want any of _it_ to mean anything anymore, not just running, but… forgetting about everything, and don’t people say that this city is the place to do that? What’s one more forgotten person?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Haven’t you ever wished you could be someone else?”

Ryan blinked a few times.

“No,” he replied. “This is where I belong.”

“I meant before you did this,” Gavin replied. “I was assuming that you weren’t born into this life and had some sort of choice about joining. But like you said, I’m not here to talk - these should be polished even if you aren’t using them that much. I’m sure you’re extremely proficient, but you’ll be amazed how easily they’ll glide… last longer too. A set like this, be a shame to replace it before it’s fully worked it’s magic, see… I like working with tools. Makes me feel like a craftsman for a second. There, that’s one thing about me.”

“What sort of tools?” Ryan asked, frowning.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess it’s more like fixing things up. It feels like a _triumph_ , when you can get something to work that’s been broken for so long. I’ve fixed up some computers before, like upgrading them too, looking at all the parts… would make me feel _proud_ , but I never really had that much time. There was always something else more important. Hard to prioritize doing what you love when there –” He broke off. “I just always seemed to be really busy.”

Something in his voice resonated deeply with Ryan for a quick moment. But then his frown deepened as he remembered who he was dealing with and recalled another man who’d claimed to be particularly fond of “tools”.

“When did you start talking so much?” he demanded.

“Hmm?” Gavin stirred, like he’d been woken from a dream.

“You don’t talk,” Ryan said, slowly. “You told me you don’t want to talk. So why the hell are you talking so much all of a sudden?”

Gavin stared down at his hands, rubbing the sandpaper meticulously along the picks.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “It’s not like me.”

“I suppose Fredo’s been clinging to you?” Ryan’s voice surprised himself. For the first time it felt like there had been no anger, but the other man paused in his work all the same and looked up at Ryan with worried eyes, like he thought Ryan was mad at him for that. Ryan shrugged, nodding for Gavin to continue, because if there was one thing he knew he couldn’t blame the man for it was how Alfredo had taken to Gavin like a boy receiving a puppy for Christmas.

“I don’t mean to get in anyone’s way… but he finds me, and I like it - I mean - I enjoy talking to him.” He huffed. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want me encouraging it, though. If there was… is there a way I can distract him, so he doesn’t want to see me as much? I don’t want to brush him off, but if you’d rather we didn’t talk, because God I know I’m like an… imposter, I suppose.”

“You’d do that to stay on my good side?” Ryan asked, wondering when his voice had got so calm, watching, kind of hypnotized - a strong smell of ammonia filling his lungs as Gavin went to work on the polish. There was something satisfying about watching someone do work they knew well.

“I want to be as less trouble as possible; and…” Gavin trailed off, frustrated. “I think Alfredo likes me here. And I’m certain you don’t. I’m looking for some middle ground.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ryan said, almost gently. “If he wants to talk, talk. He can look after himself.”

“He… he said something to me about you.”

“What?” Ryan demanded. “What did he say?”

“He was just joking around this morning…” Gavin shook his head. “Said that you’ve threatened to murder him hundreds of times. Throw him off the roof or out the window. But then he said that he loved you for it. He said that he loves you.”

“And you’re bringing this up because?” Ryan said, fiercely, scowling at the man. This man contradicted himself too much - for someone who didn’t want to talk. The man who had been a shadow in his home for too long already. How he was spouting some bullshit about wanting to start some new fucking life, but also, _also_ , getting involved in their business and apparently becoming their advisor for this latest job because that wasn’t weird at all for someone most definitely on the run and looking to lay down low –

He shook himself.

“If you’re looking for some kind of heart to heart,” he continued. “You’re not going to find one here. You’re mistaken if you think me tolerating your presence for the time being is an indication that I’m actually coming round to the idea of… of this.”

“I didn’t realize you _were_ tolerating me,” Gavin said, and bit his lip. “I guess you have been - if you really wanted me out I’d be out, alright then. If you’re tolerating me for the time being, can I offer one more suggestion for today?”

Ryan stared at him, taken aback. His confident tone, the slight smirk at the corner of his mouth - it was like there was another man suddenly standing before him. Gavin, who’d been so reserved, so despondent - when he was taking point and explaining everyone’s roles to them and making it sound like he was reading off that quarter’s profits at a business meeting.

He took too long to reply, because Gavin sighed again.

“When you take out the cameras,” he said. “You were going to use a laser, right? I get it. It’s the simplest way. But, well… in a place like that I wouldn’t be surprised if they have security watching these cams like hawks. Moment one of them goes down, they’ll be out. Don’t matter how quick you are. Someone’s gonna be checking on that cam instantly.” He glanced up, “I could be wrong, of course. But in my eyes there’s a better way to go about this.”

“Seems there always is with you,” Ryan snapped. “You don’t even know what _you_ want.”

His muscles tightened again as he leaned forward, the words rising up passionately, ready to spill out. _Whatever this existential crisis is, go and have it somewhere else, away from me and my family, work out this shit on your own without ruining everything –_

But Gavin’s own eager voice halted him.

“Alfredo gave me a phone a few days ago,” he said, and smiled, softly, and Ryan could see that there was a genuine fondness to it. “I told him - don’t need one, not got no one to call, but then he put his number on there… so I could call him from the next room over, I guess. He said I could use it just for the camera, cause that’s another thing I’m kinda interested in. Taking photos and videos and stuff - right, but not important, sorry. Thing is phone’s nowadays are extremely powerful little things - faster than a computer ten years ago. And if you know what you’re doing it’s very easy to create certain programs that can aid you in… let’s say overriding local CCTV, if you know what you’re doing and I do know what I’m doing, Ryan. Think what you like about me but believe me when I say I know what I’m doing. This… it’ll be so much better than a laser. They won’t even know you were there. Just a few taps on your part and you’re in.”

Ryan stared at him, still bewildered. This was not the man he’d seen before, or any of them had.

“You’re telling me you’ve wrote some code that can hack into the cams?” he asked, eyes narrow. “This is just another skill you happen to have? After all that shit of wanting to make a new life. Tell me I’m wrong when I say this is _exactly_ who you were before. You don’t want to change, you just want a change of scenery, like a fucking leech moving onto a new host.”

Gavin’s slight smile faded, quickly.

“Maybe I am acting strangely. Irrationally. But this is nothing like before,” he muttered.

Ryan didn’t like that strained note in his voice. It felt like he was trying to convince himself that Ryan was just shitting with him. But Ryan was speaking only what he saw, and what he knew from past experience.

_He can’t hide from you._

“Just take the phone!” he said, thrusting the device out suddenly. “It’ll work, I promise.”

“Your promises mean shit to me!” Ryan slammed a closed fist on the table, rattling the whole thing. Gavin tensed up, an instinctive action - own fists closing, his stance changing. A fighter, Ryan could recognize the signs of someone who knew how to fight better than anything.

“Look,” Gavin said, wary. “You could try it out on your laptop camera, or, I saw the camera outside the front door. I admit, I’ve snooped around outside, but there’s not much I can do, is there? This’ll help. I swear.”

He was begging, pleading with Ryan. And yet Ryan felt nothing. Nothing but the same distrust and dislike and plain frustration. There was something, though, about the young man’s almost desperation, muddled with the confusion and hinted eagerness to please.

“Tell me what you did and I’ll take the phone,” Ryan murmured. “You’re running. There’s a reason for that. You’re scared. Of something. And you did something to piss off that something. What was it?”

The effect was instant; Gavin’s eyes hardened, a darkness overcoming him.

“You wanna prove I can trust you,” Ryan said. “Tell me that one thing - I won’t say anything to the others - not fool enough to say I’ve not done things I’ve been ashamed about in the past. Go on. Tell me. What did you do?”

“It’s not what I did,” Gavin whispered, and Ryan wasn’t sure the man believed him. To be true - he didn’t think it would much change his opinion on the man but he wanted something to chew on, like a dog desperate for a bone. After a moment, Gavin breathed out, “It’s what I didn’t do.”

And then he shut down. Ryan saw it happen in front of his very eyes. Like a huge brick wall was suddenly built all around him. And suddenly the man was back to being that shadow.

Ryan’s lips thinned.

“Keep your damn phone,” he muttered, and turned his back on Gavin until he heard the man go.

 

* * *

 

_So here’s how it goes._

Distraction theft is not the easiest to execute. Ideally you need a lot of people, who all know what they’re doing, and who’ll work together seamlessly. The mission is to overwhelm sales associates to the point where one person is left unattended to do the actual stealing.

_It’s best to stagger the entrances. No one should suspect anyone is colluding._

Lindsay and Michael entered first - playing the role of the young wealthy couple, returning to look over the items Lindsay reserved from the other day. Geoff enters around ten minutes later, dressed in a suit, constantly talking on his phone, though no one’s on the other end, making it seem like he’s picking out something for a client, assertive tone. Alfredo’s next, decked out like any of the young crew members with plenty of cash to spare - good, the staff will be focused more on him. Ryan comes then, dressed plainly, going to be browsing the rings, looking for one for his imaginary wife. Finally it’s Jack and Jeremy, acting the talkative and happy tourists.

_In a place like Taylor and Hart’s, simply grabbing all the clerks attention is probably not going to be enough. There needs to be some sort of scene._

Lindsay and Alfredo are up. They all knew it was going to happen, but the decision of when is left up to the two, picking the perfect moment to act. Everyone sure as hell is on board the moment it _has_ happened, the noise – Lindsay and Alfredo going at each other like a couple of street cats.

_You need your best grifters for this._

“Bitch, get your hands off me!” Alfredo yelled.

They’re standing toe to toe, and Lindsay latched onto his arm, screaming an all manner of obscenities. They just so happen in perfect view of all the other shoppers and staff; a performance for the masses. She claims he tried to steal her purse, he claims she’s trying to pull the white privilege card on them. The insults get fairly creative after a while – from “Your asshole must be so jealous of your mouth from all the shit it’s been spewing,” to “You’re as useless as a marzipan dildo.” It’s fair to say, people were distracted. It can only provide cover for so long; enough to cause a scene, but they don’t want to get too carried away, less the staff call in for backup. You need someone who’s quick with their fingers, then.

_Ryan?_

Ryan’s stomach felt tight.

_It’s working._ After all Jeremy’s worries he was playing his part perfectly by insisting he’d dropped his credit card somewhere. The others were all working too, Alfredo and Lindsay harder than anyone.

“Alright,” he whispered under his breath. “Time to blind some cameras.”

There were only two he needed to deal with. One in the corner of the alcove, the other directly behind him.

His tool of choice was small but powerful, a tiny laser that he concealed between his fingers. A few quick flashes and he was able to calculate the height he needed to aim.

_There are easier ways…_

Maybe. But they’re not his way. He’s used this method before, and he trusts it; more than he trusts any stranger. The laser is powerful enough to dazzle the lenses for a good minute, after that things will slowly start coming into focus.

Everyone’s still distracted. No one paid him any mind.

He ran a finger over the object hidden in his other hand - polished and sandpapered to slick perfection.

He took a look at the opals - wondered how on earth these little black stones could be worth so much.

_Don’t underestimate stores like this. Their security will be tight._

Oh he had no doubt what Gavin had been saying about someone coming to check on the cameras right away was probably true. But he’d be gone by then, he was certain of it.

There were a number of other people milling around in the area - good, because although it meant he’d have to be sneakier than ever, they also provided cover. I mean, any one of these people could have stolen the opals. You know what this city’s like.

_Just take the phone!_

Fuck him.

He aimed the laser and turned it on. A quick adjustment and it’s right in the center of the lens. A few seconds later and all anyone would see on the screen was a bright white.

Now for the other one –

_WRRRR!_

_What?_ He froze.

The alarms blared loudly throughout the store. He looked around, saw everyone else standing there gormless too, all attempts at distraction come to an abrupt end. The staff sprang into action a second later, asking politely for everyone to leave the premises while they sorted out the problem, saying that there was just a fault with the system – not that a camera blinded by a laser had triggered some automatic defense system. Ryan had never seen anything like it. Not even the fastest lock picker in the world would have had a chance to even get close to the display case, and what’s _more_ , as they were leaving two large security guards appeared and told everyone that they needed to search them. Just as a precaution, of course.

Once out, Ryan avoided looking any of the others in the eye.

They took off in different directions at first anyway, meeting at a rendezvous point a couple of blocks away – a general feeling of disappointment and utter confusion from the others, Ryan keeping quiet while they frantically discussed amongst themselves. More than anything, he was mad at Gavin – it was that little shit’s grand idea to rob from a jewelry store like this after all, scheming his way into things, and look where it had got them.

He brushed off Jeremy’s hand on his shoulder, blinking back the angry red haze in his eyes, hating the person the past few weeks had turned him into, but _rest assured_ , he was going to make sure that was going to change. From now on they were doing things Ryan’s way.

* * *

 

The job that ended him had been the longest one of his life.

He’d been there for four months, with one goal in mind; he couldn’t remember ever being in the same place for such a long amount of time, not since he was a child, even then, he and his father often took trips abroad. That was never as exciting as it sounded, with Gavin always being kept in a hotel room or rented out house while his father went out and worked the very same job Gavin was unsuspectingly being trained for himself.

He didn’t think his father trusted to leave him behind, ironically. Dangerous as his work may be at least he wasn’t alone back “home”. It was alright when he got older. Like with any baby animal, they grow large enough taking them down gets harder.

He’d toughened up. Become dangerous. Become _valuable_.

Something had happened on his last job, he felt it. It was hard to explain, been entirely unintentional, such a gradual change that it had lulled him into a false sense of security, made him think it wasn’t anything he should worry about. He’d been following rules and orders for so long that he was almost brainwashed into acting and behaving in one way. Never looking past the boundaries that had been strictly laid out for him. But he hadn’t been completely blinded, and meeting _him_ had changed everything.

_What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?_ He awoke with a start.

He rubbed his face tiredly as he turned over and looked blearily out of the bedroom window, where he judged it to be early morning by the way the sky seemed that particular shade of deep blue, before sitting up and wincing. A phantom pain, on the right side of his jaw, almost like he could feel the sting of the blow and the taste of blood again. On the other hand, his ankle was actually in pain for real. Bones were always weird like that, sometimes aching the most when they were almost healed.

He tried to convince himself that was what had jolted him awake, not the memories brought on earlier that night. The jewelry store had not been a success; seeing as his phone hadn’t been needed Gavin had received a text from Alfredo telling him briefly what had happened. When they’d returned they’d all taken themselves away, Geoff saying they’d reconvene the next day after people had calmed down, and Gavin hadn’t pressed for details.

Instead he’d stayed in his - _no, Alfredo’s room_. Browsed the internet on his phone, reading anything and everything about Achievement City, ended up looking at general news - a grave mistake, and the aftermath had left him reeling. It was like his body could no longer function; his breathing had gone erratic, eyes blurred, muscles burning though he was frozen still. All he’d done was lie on the bed, trying to keep his hyperventilating as quiet as possible. The photo, that face, it was all there on the screen to remind him of what had happened. Of what he’d done.

“Fuck,” he cried quietly.

_Gavin!_ The voice haunted his every waking and dreaming moment, brutally taking him back to that very night where a man had died and a part of Gavin had too.

“Not died… _murdered_ ,” he breathed.

_You’re a killer._ No, he wasn’t, he was just a murderer. _There’s nothing honorable about anything you ever did._

_Gavin?_ He squeezed his eyes tight shut. _It’s alright, son._

But it wasn’t alright, nothing about what he’d done had been remotely close to alright, and the fact that the man hadn’t even spoken with an ounce of hatred or contempt only made everything so much worse – a man whose life was worth a hundred times more than his.

When he’d seen the news coverage on the death, of all the work he had done, of all the friends and family who would greatly miss him, a man who’d already given and still had a lot to offer the world – a life cut too short by the unknown assailants as they were calling them. The best detectives were on the case, though Gavin knew they’d never catch him or any of the others – they never did.

Celebrated philanthropist, Dr David Fairley, had been Gavin’s longest and most complicated mark he’d ever been given.

To think, he’d been kind of excited at the start.

Sickeningly, he supposed, in the end, it had been a success.

The man was dead. And they’d made a lot of money.

_You really, fucked this one up, Gavin._ Their voices taunt him. _Boss’ll be very interested to hear what we have to say._

“Where are they?” he whispered, again, his voice sounding eerily ghostly in the quiet room.

Were they still searching every city in a fifty-mile radius? Had they tracked him all the way to Achievement City? Did they know what had happened to him? Did they know about Geoff? The others?

Gavin took a deep breath. He was working himself up too easily when, really, circumstances had lucked out so great in his favour, more than he deserved – exhaustion and pain had much to do with this early morning breakdown, along with that endless stabbing guilt he’d been carrying with him ever since he ran, hitting him again and _again_.

Ryan was right – he was a complete fuck up – he thought he wanted one thing and acted in another, one leg pulling him one way the other tugging him back.

Maybe he should have just shot himself, that night during the intensity of it all putting that gun to his head and pulling the trigger had been so tempting. Then Dr Fairley – that good, honest, man – _gods_ , even after finding out who Gavin was he still wanted to help. He’d never felt a connection like he had with that man, something so vastly different to the relationship with his father. It was that bond, more than anything, that had changed him during his time there. Gavin had a suspicious feeling that, despite how horrific it had ended, it was that connection formed that was keeping him going – for all his luck, for all the kindness shown to him by strangers, for all the opportunities that could be offered in this new city; underneath it all was still a deep sated disbelief and disgust in himself.

And maybe he really would have jumped out of the window if not for those final last words from the man who had changed everything. The only voice in his head that wasn’t taunting or disappointed or _deadly_.

_You’re more than you think you are._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support so far! It's really, really, really appreciated!!!


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Gavin heard when he opened his eyes the next morning, after eventually passing out fully clothed on top of the bed, was arguing.

Geoff. Michael. Ryan. Those were the voices that were most dominant. He was surprised that he hadn’t woken earlier; not only was the sun high in the sky by now but he was usually woken by _anything_.

It wasn’t like he was still sick. For a moment, though, listening to the raised voices, it felt like he might throw up, his stomach lurching as if he was suddenly falling. They were arguing about yesterday, and why it had failed, and he would be lying if he didn’t admit he felt guilty about it. After all, it had been his suggestion they try and pull off a distraction rather than just letting them get on with their own thing.

He stumbled to his feet, foot barely even twinging now, and attempted to rub some life into his eyes.

He debated staying in his room until the worst had blown over, maybe try and catch Geoff after,move this whole getting the fuck out of their lives thing on. It would be a good thing – _freedom_ , he’d be free to roam and do as he pleased, and he’d be doing these guys a favor by getting out of their way.

Suddenly, a brighter voice emerged from the anger and frustration – and Gavin’s pull to get out while the going’s still good dissipated. He smiled wistfully, listening to Alfredo jumping in optimistically, trying to raise everyone’s spirits. He would be lying too, if he didn’t admit he’d miss the kid like hell even after such a brief time.

“Hey! We should just go and get Gavin! He’ll know what to do!”

“Fredo, leave him,” Geoff started, but Gavin’s door was opening before he could finish. “Sorry to drag you into this, Gavin!” The man called from the main room.

“You okay?” He had an unnerving sense that Alfredo could tell he hadn’t had the best of nights. In the moment after bursting through the door, the sudden _worry_ in his eyes had Gavin shifting awkwardly.

“I’m fine.” Gavin forced out a smile, and then a second later remembered how to act properly and relaxed into a more convincing one, making sure to crinkle his eyes. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to get involved again. I didn’t exactly help before, did I? If Geoff gets any free time later we can talk about things, about me getting out of your way.”

Alfredo just pulled a face, like Gavin was only teasing. He grabbed hold of his arm instead, pulling him with a certain determination out of the room and into the spotlight of six pairs of eyes watching his every move. Now what those eyes seemed to say, was vastly different. Like a bodyguard, or those of a fierce watchdog, Ryan’s were the most intense and challenging. How he was leaning with his arms crossed against the couch made Gavin feel instantly on edge. How he could feel the fiery glare burning through him, making his hands fidget nervously and all his limbs feel tightly bound.

“They’ve been arguing a lot _aaall_ morning,” Alfredo explained, as if Gavin wouldn’t have already known. “But we should just explain exactly what happened to you, so then you can tell us what we did wrong.”

He broke off to look at the others expectantly, and Geoff glanced around and gave a shrug as if to say “what harm could it do?”. The others seemed to agree; a couple faces looking like they were just glad of the break from all the raised voices, Lindsay and Jack particularly brightened – Gavin was soon ushered into a space between the two as Alfredo practically pushed him to sit slightly squeezed up in the center of the couch.

Ryan had remained a statue the whole time, and Gavin’s hairs on the back of his neck raised as he felt the presence of the other man standing stoically a mere few inches behind him. If Ryan’s attitude towards him had been a discomfort before – one born entirely of distrust for this _stranger_ – now there was a new emotion Gavin had recognized. One more troublesome, he feared. There was blame. There was no doubt he was holding Gavin accountable for this mess.

_What had happened?_ Besides Alfredo’s very brief explanation yesterday he knew next to nothing. Even now, he found it hard to speculate exactly what could have occurred to cause such confusion among the group – nothing so simple as one of them fucking up. And even as they began to explain, nothing seemed to add up. When they reached the part where Alfredo and Lindsay created the main distraction, it sounded more than perfect.

“It was like this,” Alfredo said, and moved forward to square up to Lindsay, who rose to her feet grinning too.

_They’re good_ , Gavin had already seen this, _but now there’s an extra energy to it_. Perhaps it was because they were reenacting now, or because there were still traces of adrenaline left over from the real thing, but the way they held themselves, every movement and every insult, it was so convincing it actually surprised Gavin when they suddenly broke off with laughter, and Lindsay turned to him and bowed.

Alfredo jumped into the space Lindsay had been sitting in, and looked up to Gavin expectantly.

“Wow, that was something else,” he said, truly and genuinely impressed by the both of them. It struck Gavin how natural they both were – how the art of performing had never been his forte and that any job he had ever worked that required him to wear a new identity had only ever been varying shades of his personality. If he could be kind enough as to say that Gavin had a personality.

“We had everyone looking,” Alfredo said, eyes sparkling with pride.

“And I managed to not fuck everything up,” Jeremy inserted. Gavin took a proper look at the small man for the first time. Jeremy had been arguably the most nervous, but now he just looked eager for answers.

_Guess he took your advice._ All Jeremy had needed was confidence going into this; his loud, larger than life personality was a distraction enough itself. Though those weren’t quite the words Gavin had used. _Told him something about acting like you belong there and you will. Advice you’d tried to follow for years…_

Come to think, yesterday Jeremy had been going out of his way to talk to him more. He didn’t know if he was following Alfredo’s ever-inquisitive lead or was simply starting to get more comfortable himself. Gavin had been pleasantly surprised when the man had come up to him and just started chatting random shit, making funny remarks about the others acting skills and generally just talking nonstop while Gavin watched and listened. It had been nice. But then Jeremy had gone down to the garage, asked Gavin to let Ryan know and then… well, he could only shudder at the memory from then on.

“So,” he said, regarding them all. “Sounds like you all played your parts to a T.”

“So there’s nothing we could have done?” Jack asked, a little hopeful.

Gavin shrugged. “Honestly, it seems like a coincidence more than anything. There’s no way they’d set the alarm off just for a couple noisy customers.”

Ryan stepped in front of him swiftly as if he was half expecting Gavin to make a sudden break for it. Despite the strangeness and newness of it all, there was a weird sense of calm that Gavin felt, talking to these guys, having them listen to him, feeling like he was contributing a fraction to something good for once.

“Huh,” Ryan said, disarmingly casually. “Well. You’ve been a lot of fucking help.”

Gavin let out a short breath of laughter, he couldn’t help it. Ryan glared down at him, and as he looked into those piercing eyes, he noticed the briefest, tiniest glimmer of unease. Gavin could see, that despite how angry the man seemed now, that there was something else eating away at him. Something that wasn’t Gavin, that wasn’t to do with all the obvious distrust and dislike – though it may sound a little spiteful, he was glad to see Ryan like this, uncertain. It could become tiring, having someone hate you for no other reason than a kind of instinct, not that Gavin could truly blame him for it. Many people had hated him over the years and he’d sure done his fair share of hating himself – but there were reasons for that hate that went far deeper than, “I just don’t like you because it’s what my gut’s telling me”.

He’d wronged Ryan no more than the others. And at some point, almost definitely at the end of their little conversation the day before, Gavin had had enough of acting the submissive pup.

“I’m sorry I didn’t take into account random alarms going off,” he commented, and there was just enough sarcasm to make Ryan’s fists clench.

It did feel weird. Not like tension-weird – Gavin knew that feeling intimately enough already. But there was something he couldn’t quite place his finger on, in Ryan’s face, there was an uneasinesses that wasn’t just from Gavin’s presence. The moment was frozen for a second, like it was just the two of them with Gavin being the one sending out the searching stares for once as he tried his best to piece everything together. _They’re right to be conflicted._ Though he might have passed it off as a coincidence he had learned that rarely in this business was that the case, and there were often more conclusive answers if you dug deep enough.

“No, you’re right, I have missed something. Or you all have,” Gavin said, directly. “It doesn’t sit right. It feels too wrong to be a coincidence. Think guys, what exactly happened in the few seconds before the alarm went off?”

“All the staff were definitely preoccupied.” There was a raw respect in Jeremy’s face as he stared at Gavin. “It was even harder than I expected but I know eventually my guy was only payingattention to me.”

He still sounded like he couldn’t quite believe it himself. For most of his life Gavin had never paid the idea of self-doubt, or any insecurities that anyone other than himself might have, much mind. After his father died, he’d lost the one figure in his life whose feelings actually meant something to him. Even on group jobs, it struck him that there had still been that every man for himself mentality, all he cared about was his own role – if someone else fucked up, it was nothing he could give a shit about – long as he kept to himself, the only shit he’d ever have to deal with was his own.

Maybe it was kind of his fault he’d never found anyone he could call a friend. But to compare that life with the almost non-existent relationship he had with Jeremy would be foolish, and if he did feel a sense of pride for the young man, he could easily put that down to a relief that he’d done an alright job himself – maybe he had a career as a distraction theft consultant slash motivational acting coach ahead of him.

“We were all talking our asses off,” Jeremy continued, and there was a sudden note of hesitation in his voice as he stood up to pull Ryan out of the way, tugging at his arm. “Ryan, just sit down… you’d only just walked over to that section of the store, right? Maybe they didn’t like the look of you or something.”

Ryan shook the hand off, remaining on his feet although he was no longer right in Gavin’s face. Jeremy’s face dropped. Gavin had noticed, because of the way Ryan had been acting – the Jeremy he’d first met was not the one he saw now, a blankness around Ryan where light used to be. And he knew he wasn’t to blame for the man’s sense of loss but he felt guilty none the less. In the end it was simple. Ryan was in a constant bad mood. Therefore it reflected onto the others. Jeremy more than anyone else.

“Yeah, you flip the camera off or what?” Michael echoed. “I mean, maybe Ryan wasn’t the best choice to do the stealthy part. It’s like letting an alligator into a daycare.”

“I didn’t do anything other than fucking walk over,” Ryan growled, shooting the younger man a harsh glare.

Jeremy was still standing by him pleadingly, but Ryan was avoiding looking at him. He was getting more jittery by the second - and like a fucking tidal wave it suddenly hit Gavin that he was lying.

“Alarms in stores are triggered automatically usually, not by an actual person,” was all Gavin said to begin with, musing over his thoughts. “None of you were carrying anything on your person that could trigger anything to go off. But Ryan, you had that laser to take out the cameras – I’m confused, you said you just walked over there. You didn’t use it, then? Or did you forget that part?”

The man didn’t need to give a verbal answer, because the moment the question left his mouth Gavin could see the truth. He could tell the others were a little baffled; a lingering silence had settled, but he forced his gaze to remain on Ryan’s face as it contorted further, eyes burning, jaw clenching, lips tightening as the man’s breathing sped up. Gavin didn’t back down, wouldn’t or couldn’t, it didn’t make any difference. The other man took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, but in a second they were open again, and instantly Gavin knew what was coming next.

Even so, the force with which Ryan went for him, wild, violently visceral, like he was reacting now out of pure self-defense, surprised him. He barely had time to raise his arms to block the blows, not steady enough so he ended up hitting himself in the face a few times through Ryan’s own strikes. A burning rage seemed to spark up inside him – caused by Ryan? – no, it was coming from Ryan, the man’s incredible anger, it was like Gavin could feel it in his own blood.

Gavin stared unmoving as Ryan was pulled away by a multitude of hands. Angry shouts had started up again – he twisted and saw Michael, yelling and red-faced. His hands were gripped onto Ryan’s shirt collar, a far difference from the casual, laidback expression he normally wore, now he looked truly _pissed_. All around him, it was loud and angry, but somehow he felt none of it. Like, the second Ryan had let go of him, he’d taken that anger back with him and the pure shock of feeling _it all_ made now seem like nothing.

“Enough!” It was not much more than a whisper, and yet everyone heard it. Geoff sat up authoritatively. “You’re acting like a bunch of thugs. Now, I’m going to ask you this once, Ryan. What exactly happened?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Ryan yelled. “I’m not the problem here!”

They were all watching him now, and Ryan’s eyes darted between them like a caged animal.

“You don’t,” he began. “You don’t understand. None of you - none of you can fucking see it.”

“Because we don’t know what there is to see!” Michael pointed out, exasperated. Indeed, he still had a hold on Ryan, though it was considerably looser, but he seemed wary to let him fully out of his grip. There was something rehearsed about his actions. Like this wasn’t the first time he’d had to hold the man back.

“None of you want to hear it anyway,” Ryan muttered. “You won’t listen… won’t listen, won’t listen.”

Almost incoherent mumbling was not what Gavin had ever expected from Ryan, and it was unnerving to see the man suddenly like this, but from the way the others responded it wasn’t a first-time occurrence. Jeremy was quick to take over from Michael, pushing gently on Ryan to sit down slowly. Ryan allowed it to happen this time, a weird glaze over his eyes as he stared blankly ahead while his breathing struggled to maintain a normal rhythm, surrendering everyone silent as they all hesitantly took seats themselves.

“Tell me what happened,” Jeremy demanded, though he said it as soft as possible.

Ryan was no longer completely with them – Gavin was in a trance, unable to look away, something dark and angry and _frightened,_ made Gavin’s heart flinch. It wasn’t about him anymore or what Ryan hated about having him here. It was more, it was something far deeper. There was a dark blur surrounding the other man, shadows that swirled and whispered and tugged at his skin.

Gavin wasn’t sure if anyone else could see them. It was a kind of sixth sense, a feeling of utter despair that hit Gavin so hard his own breathing halted for a moment. But there was little he could do to help, and even if he knew how he wasn’t sure it would be entirely welcomed.

“Did you set the alarm off?” Jack asked beside him, but before Ryan could answer, Geoff’s phone conveniently decided this would be the perfect time to ring, the man cursing until he saw the caller ID – it was Trevor, all of them quickly deciding he should take it, and the man left them in silence once more. Okay. Ryan had almost completely shut down, but Gavin felt he had answers enough already.

“It doesn’t really matter, it’s all in the past. You guys can try again now we know what went wrong.”

“We’re not going back,” Ryan muttered, still glazed over – Gavin sent him a long look. Ryan’s whole form was shrunk, battered. He didn’t look anything like the man who had been attacking him mere minutes ago. It didn’t make Gavin feel any better, somehow the opposite. Yesterday he’d been beyond frustrated with the man, maybe even begun to share that same contempt Ryan held for him, and earlier he’d even felt a bit smug when the man’s tough exterior started to wear down. But now everything felt so very, very wrong and Gavin had never felt like more of an imposter than during this very private and very _real_ moment that both gave him a slight more insight and yet left him more confused than ever.

“Alright, I’m dumb,” Lindsay spoke up, upbeat tone a welcome respite. “What exactly happened? What did we miss? If we’re going back how can we be sure to not mess it up again, especially cause that whole distraction thing’s probably not gonna work as well a second time.”

Before anyone could respond, or even really think, Ryan promptly stood up in an almost robotic motion and stalked over to the window, throwing his hands up to the glass and pressing his weight against the whole pane. From Gavin’s angle it was as if he was one with the skyline; a giant standing amongst the skyscrapers, trying his best to appear as imposing as the structures around him. He reminded Gavin uncomfortably of his father, when the man would sit for hours by the window not saying a word.

Ryan’s silence didn’t last long, however. But it was with the return to somewhat himself that came the rather familiar loathing.

“Guess this is funny to you?” he cackled, sneering at Gavin. “You’ll get to use your fancy little phone after all!”

“Gavin, what is he talking about?” Jeremy asked, and Gavin took a deep breath, unsure how wise this would be.

“I uh… I made this little thing on my phone that could hack into local CCTV. Kind of, like, reset it so it replaces the current image with an old recording. Basically, it alters the picture without them realizing anything’s changed.” Gavin wondered why he always got so flustered when he was trying to explain a topic he knew very well, but they seemed to get the gist of it. Michael certainly did, anyway.

“And we didn’t use this motherfucking CIA shit _because_?”

Gavin turned to Ryan. His heart was pumping and he was focused on watching the older man’s every action. In one sense he supposed Ryan was back to normal, meaning he was no longer overwhelmed with that dark fear – but you couldn’t just switch back that quickly.

There was something erratic about his movements. He ducked randomly, nimbly, and the stayed there, crouching, head in his hands.

“Why do you think?” he muttered, still covering his face. “You expect me to just take this piece of shit’s word for granted?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Michael called out. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit!”

Jeremy held a hand out, demanding quiet.

“That wasn’t your decision to make, Ryan,” he said, firmly. Then he turned to Gavin. “And are you naive or just plain stupid if you thought telling him about this genius little idea would gain you any favors?”

Gavin dropped his head down. He didn’t know why he had gone to Ryan first – perhaps it had been some last-ditch effort to try and make peace, though thinking back that was quite possibly the dumbest move he could have made.

But on the other hand, maybe it was just in his imagination, but he could have sworn there had been the briefest of moments when Ryan didn’t entirely hate him. Gavin had been running his mouth about enjoying working with tools – he’d seen something flicker in the other man’s eyes.

But of course he’d gone and ruined it; they both had, Gavin stepping way over the line once more and Ryan just being plain stubborn.

_You’re both idiots._

He thought the statement was in his head at first – it felt true enough. But then he realized it was Jeremy, who was still speaking, regarding the both of them cooly.

“Sort this mess out. The both of you. I’ve had enough.”

“What?” Ryan demanded.

“Sort it out,” Jeremy repeated, and let out a frustrated huff as he reattached himself to Ryan’s side and pulled the man’s hands from his head before replacing them with his own. “Something is obviously fucking the sense out of you recently, and if you don’t want to tell me –”

“That’s not it!” Ryan argued, but he didn’t struggle out of Jeremy’s grip. “I’m allowed an opinion. You all clearly know what that opinion is. So stop trying to change my mind.”

Gavin felt very awkward, and he suspected he wasn’t the only one. The others didn’t know where to look, it didn’t feel right, this conversation shouldn’t be for their ears. Jeremy’s and Ryan’s voices had lowered but in the silence of the room they were still audible, pained and exasperated whisperings, Jeremy was going round in circles trying to get Ryan to be reasonable. Gavin thought that maybe he should just say he wanted to go, there and then. Offer the phone up as an apology, give them any tips on going back to the store again, and then be on his way.

The words were right on the tip of his tongue. _Stop fighting, please, I’ll go, everything can go back to normal._

A hand on his knee stopped him.

“This isn’t your fault.”

If she wasn’t smiling so kindly Gavin wouldn’t put her past physically wrestling him to the ground. Lindsay’s eyes – he’d admit he hadn’t spent a long time gazing into them, not when her husband was so ever present, but now she was staring at him, locked on, and they were somehow the most reassuring thing on the planet.

How are these guys so easy to trust? _Since when do you trust easily?_ Maybe he’d given himself brain damage as well as a sprained ankle. Nothing he’d done since he’d arrived here was what the old Gavin would have done. 

Lindsay glanced to his side and smiled.

“Yeah, you can’t go now. Lindsay hasn’t even shown you her collection of katanas yet.”

Lindsay _and_ Alfredo. He sighed. If it were just the two of them perhaps making the decision to stick around forever would be enticing. God, he was so conflicted. Nothing made sense and everything felt like his fault while at the same time he felt he had no control over anything.

He hated Ryan, he sympathized with Ryan, he wanted nothing to do with Ryan, he just wanted to _understand_ Ryan.

He had meant to help these people… as what? A thankful farewell gift? An apology for listening in on their private meeting? Or was it something more? Had he, in fact, been out to prove himself to them in some way?

_You don’t know what you want._ No, Ryan. He didn’t think he did. _But somehow…_ Gavin took in the man’s hunched over form, still battling words with a man he supposedly loved very much, _it feels like he’s just as lost as you._

Geoff entered then.

He came with a message from Trevor.

The young man was going to come round in a few hours.

And, really, that was when everything changed.

* * *

 

“Y’know, I could always come back later…” Trevor suggested.

They’d got the majority of shouting out of the way now, but there was still a lingering tension in the air that was clear to the young detective. Gavin had hidden in Michael and Lindsay’s room with the two and Alfredo for the better part of two hours, and the others had taken themselves away to their separate hidey-holes. Jeremy and Ryan had remained where they were, though even that conversation came to a dismal end, Jeremy now standing as far from Ryan as he could, purposefully avoiding looking in his direction.

He supposed he should be grateful Ryan’s anger reserve seemed to have run out for the time being. But…

He was just so annoyed. He thought they’d left this Ryan behind, the one who acted like they were the enemy, but apparently Jeremy sucked as a boyfriend because up until today he still hadn’t fully realized just how badly affected Ryan had been by Gavin’s mere presence.

It was scary too, when Ryan had looked physically pained by whatever was weighing down on him. Jeremy could feel his raw turmoil as he’d desperately tried to hold him and keep him anchored to reality. He just didn’t know where he’d failed, or what he could do to make it better.

“No, you’re here now. Tell us what it is,” Geoff said, turning all business as he leaned back in his chair.

Trevor reached up and ran a hand through his hair. If he’d appeared tired and disheveled when he’d first arrived, the atmosphere he’d walked into had taken even more out of him. If he wondered why Gavin was suddenly part of the group, he didn’t say anything.

“This one’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” he began, and grimaced. “It goes all the way up to the top. Already began our own investigation before we had our orders to stop. But fuck if I’m gonna let this one go… tell me, what do you know about human trafficking?”

“Human trafficking?” Geoff repeated, alarmed, as they all were. There were few acts more vile than that of selling another human into slavery, it made Jeremy sick to his stomach. Many of the prostitutes in the city had been smuggled illegally from other countries, heavily Eastern Europe, but people actually being stolen and sold for a profit, Jeremy was ashamed to admit he had no clue that was even really a thing that went on in America. He chanced a glance at Ryan and could see the man stiffen, could almost hear a low growl in his throat. It got worse as Trevor elaborated; specified that he was talking about child trafficking. Anything to do with children instantly made it ten times more personal for Ryan.

“You guys have any idea how much money they make per kid?” Trevor asked.

“Not something I keep up on, no.”

“What do you know?”

“Shit,” Geoff gave a pained sigh. “Nothing really… you here whisperings of that type of shit going down… but it’s never something I’ve ever come into direct contact with. Guys?”

Jeremy shook his head, along with everyone else – well, almost everyone.

“Kids from the US go for about twenty-five thousand, right?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little in thought.

“Yeah,” Trevor replied, softly. “But the bodies of the kids involved here look to be from Africa and South America, we think, there are women too, though they looked to be more random. No specific country as far as we could tell. They weren’t exactly in the best condition by the time we found them, though… still waiting for forensics back on them all…”

“I saw some kids get taken once,” Alfredo replied. He bit his lip and looked around – there was that expression that made him appear even younger than normal, instinctively igniting Jeremy’s protectiveness. “Back when I was small and I was just kicking about at night cause it was after I got told to go - there were these kids who were kinda nice. Didn’t say much but… they were a bit older than me but they were like me too and – so they let me hang around… but I didn’t get to know them very good cause that same night some big dudes came and caught a lot of ‘em. I dunno how many got away cause we all just ran. One guy almost had me but I was able to fit through this tiny gap in the fence.”

Michael reached out and squeezed the boy’s knee. The words had been rushed and some sentences half-formed – he could get like that, when he spoke about something he didn’t like thinking about, but they all got the gist of what he was saying, sharing silent angry glances. Only Gavin was left more confused than before, but Jeremy certainly wasn’t going to start explaining everything now.

“We discovered the bodies by accident. Shipping container got misplaced and when they opened it up…”

“And yet you’re bringing this to us?” Ryan demanded, alarmed.

Trevor huffed and his expression darkened.

“You know someone’s making money out of this. We were told to drop the case. Focus on more _important_ things. Message came all the way from Chief of Police. And that’s that. Not much I can do with my team.”

There was less color in his face than normal when he finished, or Jeremy thought so, at least. It could just be his own blood running cold.

“I hate this fucking city and everyone in it,” Michael declared.

“I don’t have much to go on but –“

“Trevor, before you continue, you realize there’s no way we can handle this,” Ryan insisted. “It’s not out of not wanting to. But what you’re talking about is an international operation that apparently goes all the way to the top. Not only will we be pissing off God knows how many traffickers but also whoever the assholes are behind it all.”

Jeremy hesitated to disagree. Truth be told, a part of him wanted to get involved just to do _something._ Never before had something so huge been brought to them, and he felt it would go against everything they stood for if they turned it away because they were still too small of a force to be reckoned with. He knew, that they could be great, incredible even, and had proven it time and time again in the past. But Ryan wasn’t entirely wrong, he reluctantly admitted, there was a large chance they could end up causing more harm than help, and a job of this scale would put everything they’d already built at risk.

“You know this is beyond anything we’ve taken on before,” Geoff said, less insistently. “But tell us what you have.”

“Shipping container discovered twelve days ago. Thirty inside, all dead at least two weeks, suffocated, air vent got blocked by another crate. Twenty-two kids, all girls, eight women. The only leads we were able to get were to The Casey’s, you know them surely, dockyard thugs, lot of them work there. Some of them definitely know about the containers but definitely not the main operators here. And then there’s the whole back down because someone with a lot of power has a stake in this. For all we know, it’s the fucking Mayor’s side business.”

“It better not be for Burnie’s sake.” There was a lilt of defensiveness in Geoff’s voice; for all the shit he gave their benefactor and sometime employer, the two men really did get along – Burnie being one of the few men involved in the politics of the city that they could trust. It was just a shame Burnie worked for the Mayor instead of running for the position himself.

“I highly doubt it,” Trevor said, and then - “I’m sorry guys.”

His tone, his demeanor – it was like he almost regretted bringing this to them. Ever since he’d known him, Trevor had always seemed so unflappable to Jeremy, maybe more so than Geoff at times, because that’s what his job required of him. This one had hit him hard. It must, Jeremy thought, physically pain the young detective that he even had to come to them in the first place. Became a police in order to try and do some good for the city and here he was having to turn to them because his own bosses ordered him not to investigate the deaths of _children_.

Still. He didn’t comment, just glanced around to try and gauge the thoughts of the others. Some were blatantly obvious, Ryan wanted no part of it, though Trevor hadn’t exactly caught him in the best of moods. Geoff was unreadable.

“Guys?” their leader asked, looking around.

“I’m with you no matter what,” Jack replied, instantly, and the two men shared a nod and a smile.

Jack’s loyalty to Geoff’s was as faithful as ever, not that they all didn’t trust the man with their life. Occasionally Jack just had that edge over them where he would follow the leader off a cliff if the situation called for it. That’s what came from being friends as long as they had, Jeremy mused, having started this whole venture together from the ground up when they were barely older than kids. Hell, he supposed technically Jack _had_ been a kid at the time.

“Makes you wish we had a couple more guys on our side,” Michael muttered, staring steadily around. His gaze lingered on Gavin and the ever watchful stare that the man was sending back. It hadn’t even occurred to Jeremy that they didn’t want the guy listening in on them this time. “You think you could create any fancy technology to help us out on this one?”

“I… uh… I wouldn’t know where to begin,” Gavin replied. “Of course I’d help in any way I could. But… well… it’s up to you guys, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Jeremy made a disgruntled noise. “You’re not our prisoner, y’know. You’re free to make your own choices.” He didn’t like the submissive attitude. Not that he was blaming Gavin for it, but the man had proven he obviously knew how to take care of himself. Ryan be damned, he thought grimly. If the guy wanted to stay he should stay. If he seriously wanted to go he better hurry up and tell them so they could get things sorted and move on. Jeremy always had vastly preferred open relationships with everyone no matter how newly acquainted they were. If Jeremy wanted something, he’d announce it, loudly, never had a problem with it.

“I’m sorry…” Gavin whispered after a moment.

“God, everyone, enough with the sorry’s. Let’s just talk.”

“What do you think, Jeremy?” Lindsay asked, and smiled a little, someone else who approved of more action and less pussy-footing around topics. Jeremy paused for a moment and then came to his decision.

“I hate that we’re the ones you come to,” he replied, glowering at Trevor. “I hate it because I know you have no other choice. This absolute, fucking, fuck-fest of a city… where the deaths of kids can be so easily brushed away, unless someone stands up and says enough with the _bullshit_. Feels like it’s a jump straight into the abyss but it’s one I want to take.”

“It’s an admirable statement.” Ryan surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder briefly - Jeremy was sure that was the first contact Ryan had initiated in weeks, and his heart filled with hope for a second – but the hand quickly fell away, like he’d barely even registered he was doing it. “But we have to use our heads. We think before we act. That’s how we’ve survived. Taking on something like this is just not _physically_ possible. We don’t have the manpower, or the resources, or any experience with trafficking.”

“You have to start somewhere,” Jeremy replied, feeling a bit flustered. “Saving a bunch of kids from the same fate seems like a pretty good reason to get our foot through the door.” He laughed, and it echoed bitterly in his own ears. “I thought you of all people would want to help out kids being sold into slavery. Isn’t that the reason, the one that drove you out of The Warrens? I know it’s why I always liked you. You obviously cared so much for kids even when you found it hard to care for yourself. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“… You really wanna do this here?” Ryan asked, a wary note in his voice.

Jeremy glanced around at the others, and then looked at Ryan incredulously. “Do what? Talk like two normal human beings? Y’know our relationship isn’t a secret anymore, Ryan, these guys kinda know us, remember?”

Ryan turned away.

“Alright guys,” Geoff cleared his throat. “I’m sure Ryan didn’t mean it like that, Jeremy. We needn’t bring up our pasts right now when everyone’s still kinda on edge. And Ryan, while your input is always valued, you know how it goes. Let everyone say their piece first. Jeremy’s given his opinion and his reasons behind it and we all respect that as a team. You can debate it all you want once everyone else has been heard from.”

“Sorry,” Jeremy said, though part of him wanted to shout at Geoff to mind his own business, he quickly reminded himself that it would be absurd seeing as they were the ones bringing their personal issues into a group meeting. “What’s everyone else think then?”

“There was a time when I was too young and stupid to be afraid of shit like this,” Michael snorted. “Would have gone in guns blazing. And would probably have got my head popped off or my neck sliced before I knew it. I’m not saying I don’t want in… you guys know I’ll give anything a try. Don’t think I could sleep at night knowing we didn’t at least try to help, but I get that even getting a little involved could have major backlash for us now and in the future. That going all in on this one now might mean we haven’t got anything left in the tank, and that’s the whole point, isn’t it? That we continue to do this until we’re fucking old as shit and are chasing these scumbags around on scooters. But fuck it, I’ve still got a little bit of recklessness left in me, I’d say let’s give it a shot.”

Lindsay was grinning. It wasn’t unusual to see her smiling so openly, but this was a special kind of smile reserved for when she was at her most proud of her husband. Michael caught her expression – leaned over to grab her face, planting a big kiss right on her lips.

“I take it you’re in agreement, Lindsay,” Geoff commented, smiling fondly too.

“You betcha.”

“Yeah. What’d you expect? If I’m insane enough to say yes, then of course she’s gonna be all in…” Michael trailed off, giving Lindsay another pinch on the cheek.

“I’ll have you know I’m not just doing this because it is incredibly dangerous and anyone who kills children deserves to rot in hell for all of eternity,” she replied. “But also because I actually enjoy the smell of fish and salt water, so having the chance to work close by should prove great for my skin.”

“Don’t worry, I haven’t got a fucking clue what she’s talking about either,” Michael informed them, specifically Gavin who’s expression had eventually shifted to a slightly more bemused one. “What about you? Fancy weighing down on this one before you leave. Or you don’t. I don’t care, either way. No offense.”

“My opinion would be useless,” Gavin muttered, his small amusement melting away.

Michael shrugged, giving the man a pointed look. The awkwardness shone through after the drawn-out silence, and Gavin swallowed, fidgeting nervously when he realized he was leaving them hanging.

“What would you do in my shoes?” Jeremy prompted.

Gavin seemed startled that they were interested, and Jeremy half expected him to shut down into the silent shadow he’d initially been – but after a moment, he met Jeremy’s gaze steadily.

“I wouldn’t go into it thinking I was avenging all the deaths. Obviously they deserve justice but – being forced into a life you don’t want, maybe because their families were poor or they were orphaned or kidnapped, I think that can be a fate worse than death. If I was in your place I would do everything I could to rescue someone from that. Even if it’s just one kid. That’s one life you’ve given freedom. One life of freedom is worth a lot more than some people give credit to.”

“I suppose you’re an expert in criminal investigations too,” Ryan muttered.

“Not so much. No experience, honestly. But I suppose I’ve worked in situations that require you to be thorough and explore all avenues. And I’m familiar with how corrupt officials often work.” Now Ryan’s eyes narrowed again, but Jeremy grinned.

He couldn’t help himself. The more Gavin opened up the more Jeremy was fascinated by him. Back when he’d been all but silent he’d found it almost _creepy_ ; now he still wasn’t exactly normal to be around but he was a person, with a story, and _a_ _past_. And god damn if Jeremy wasn’t curious.

“You’re a little know-it-all, aren’t you?” he teased, and was glad to see Gavin smile in response.

“I worked for a… a big company before… this,” he continued, apparently gaining confidence from the attention. “I suppose it doesn’t take a genius to figure out not all of it was what you would call legal. I didn’t know – maybe I didn’t want to see it or maybe I was just too blind with, I dunno, something… you could call it loyalty, some sort of tie that I didn’t even realize was that strong. My dad worked for the same company – think it was never really an option that I wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps – so it was all I ever really knew. I must’ve been, what – eight? Nine? When he first had me… kinda just help out. I’m not excusing my past actions. Not at all. It’s just I was given one life to lead for so long being out of it all of a sudden is more than strange. But I did want out, once I really understood everything, I wanted out straight away.”

Jeremy was speechless. There was a second tale he had certainly not been expecting to hear today.

“A company,” he ventured. “Is that like code for some sort of special ops…?”

“I guess… in a way,” Gavin replied, grimly. “A sort of private business where clients would get in contact for various jobs that required a certain type of expertise. I suppose it wasn’t too dissimilar to you guys, in that it was people asking for help without taking the official route. Except it was nothing like this,” he added. “The people who asked for us had to pay a lot of money. And most of them were probably exactly the kind of people you all hate so much, I just – I never really thought about it until recently. I was forced to discover what I thought was right all along was not. And then I thought something was wrong with me, when my opinions started to diverge, and I didn’t know if I was right, or just going through a phase. When everything I’d ever believed in _fell apart_.”

The words were captivating. Finally Jeremy could understand, relate a little to the man they’d brought into their lives. He’d always been so lucky with his walk in life, and he’d always done work that he enjoyed. His father hadn’t pushed him into the garage but he’d wanted it anyway. And then after, when all the shit with his brother was over, and he’d met the guys, met _Ryan –_ his father had always been able to see his reasons for wanting something new, and had encouraged him enough to go after the man he’d fallen in love with and the work that Geoff and the others did.There had never been a worry that he wasn’t doing the right thing, because he’d been brought up with the understanding that the world was open to him and he should go where his heart took him – found it hard to imagine what it was like for those less fortunate. But being with Ryan he began to learn how closed and dark the world really was for some kids.

He felt the same now, listening to Gavin, seeing a look in the man’s eyes he’d seen before.

_Like Ryan’s._

“Anyway!” Gavin declared. “It’s true, I’ve kept my secrets because I’m ashamed. But it was, _is_ , to try and keep you guys out of the mess, too. Been working for them since I was eight and they didn’t exactly take me leaving very well – hence the, y’know, whole bus situation – though I admit that was an extreme action – I honestly have no idea what they’re going to do about me running.”

“What happened?” Jeremy asked, worried – but Gavin just shook his head with a sad smile.

“Things just… built up. Took a long job – gave me time to think. Met someone who put things in perspective. When it all came to the – when it ended… I just snapped and made a break for it. Literally hopped on the first mode of transport I saw, a little disoriented so maybe I was already getting sick.” His lips twisted, wryly. “I sound like a right criminal, don’t I?”

They were all silent, processing this. It was more than Gavin had ever spoken before. He remembered how the man had looked when he’d first arrived, small and broken and scared and sick. The awkwardness and nervousness remained, but there was more – a glint in the green eyes. This was the person, Jeremy thought, this was the real Gavin.

“Yeah, well,” he managed, finally. “Criminal or not, you seem okay. We’re not exactly filled with angels in here.”

Gavin barked out a startled laugh.

“Thank you?” he replied. “I’ll take that as a compliment I don’t deserve.”

“It is one,” Geoff added. “Gavin – none of us are perfect here, _me –_ ” he placed a hand on his chest; smiled openly, honestly. Offering up a piece of himself as Gavin had done for them. “I was a fucking piece of shit for the first thirteen years of my life, a mess for two, and then an oblivious idiot until I met this asshole…” he gestured to Jack with a grin. “Now I’ll tell you what I know about you. I like you. You’re intelligent, you’re resourceful, you’re way more polite than these dicks. And also you’ve been brave enough to speak honestly about who you are and where you’ve been. I value that. Not the type of kid I meet every damn day.”

Gavin blinked.

“You have no idea how strange it is to meet people who take what I just said as a good thing,” he mused. “I’ve done things that were…”

“We’ve all done things,” replied Michael, who had gained a familiar fire to his voice. “You think we haven’t done things that would get us locked up for life? You think we deal with the shit in this city by giving them a cookie, a pat on the back, and sending them on their way? We’re fucking criminals! That’s what they’d call us! But who gives a fuck?”

“You can’t compare us to him!” Ryan suddenly exclaimed, then paused quickly, shoulders sagging with defeat. “I give up,” he said.

There was a note of sadness to his voice – a disappointment in himself. Jeremy had heard before if they’d messed up on job, never when he was referring to them. Did he really feel he’d let them down in some way by not having them all turn against Gavin?

“Ryan!” Michael hissed. “Shut up!”

Ryan sent a lingering glare but eventually he sighed, perilously close to stalking out in a mood – then they wouldn’t see him until the next day and Jeremy would be up all night worrying, waiting for the man to return.

A shadow passed across the room. The clouds, speeding by – filling the sky with a dark blur accompanied by crackling thunder. It sent a chill down Jeremy’s spine, an electric tingle that made the hairs on his arms stand on end.

The clouds seemed to settle – but then, in an instant, the room went dim – all the lights flicking off, both inside and out. It was as though someone had thrown a cloak over the city, plunging everything into darkness, almost made it look like nighttime, with everyone stiffening in surprise, too.

“Uhh… what was that?” Alfredo whispered, nervously.

“Looks like the whole fucking grid went out,” Jack murmured, grunting softly when the boy leaped from his own seat to burrow next to him.

Jeremy wasn’t afraid of the dark but he had to admit the suddenness of it had certainly unnerved him. Like Ryan’s glare had been so powerful it had extinguished all light. Ryan himself looked completely at home, embracing the shadows with a quiet acceptance.

“It’ll be alright. The emergency generator should kick on for us in a moment, just hope this doesn’t last long.”

Sure enough the words had barely left Geoff’s mouth before the lights in their apartment stuttered back to life. The whirring of appliances, ones Jeremy never registered normally, started up again also.

Outside the sky was almost pitch black. A few of the buildings around them regained their power, but not many. It gave the city an otherworldly feel, with so many lights being spontaneously sucked away.

“Now all we need is rain and we’ll be all set for our horror movie,” Lindsay murmured.

“Thanks, dumbass,” Jeremy replied, as on queue, the heavens opened up and rain began to torrent down. Have I got it wrong or isn’t it supposed to be July? What the fuck is this? There wasn’t even cloud predicted for this week.”

“S’what you get for living by an ocean,” Geoff replied. “C’mon, you grew up here. Don’t you remember the freak weather every now and then? Probably some tornado in the middle of the sea sent the wind spiraling out of control.”

Jeremy supposed he had experienced sudden weather changes before. Hadn’t occurred since they’d moved here, though, with such a good view of the whole city.

Trevor went insane all of a sudden. He leaped up and started cursing. His phone was buzzing like crazy, the both of them. He answered one, typing frantically on the other, pacing in a very tight circle around their coffee table. Jeremy lifted his feet up, after the young detective tripped over them for a third consecutive time. He spoke in shorthand, brisk and commanding.

They all just sat in their messy circle waiting for him to finish, and Jeremy caught Gavin staring. The man looked away a little shy – quickly reverting to playing with his hands – it was kind of endearing to Jeremy, gave him the similar sort of feeling to watching Jack spend hours building legos, or Michael and Lindsay being disgustingly cute together, or Ryan trying his hardest to speak seriously but flubbing every other word.

He took a long look at Gavin, thinking. Jeremy wondered if the blackout had startled him – it didn’t appear so. If anything he looked as relaxed as Ryan had been. Perhaps it was just Jeremy and Alfredo being babies who were still scared of storms. There was a reason they were the ones who hid behind cushions during horror movies.

_Not every day’s this crazy_ , he sent over, as much as he could. It was more of a weird face and a shrug if anything.

It grabbed Gavin’s attention again however, and the man returned with a small smile of his own. _It’s all good._

Trevor was still pacing loudly. Jeremy was able to pick up the gist of the conversation, some explosion or fire at the power plant, they were calling in all resources to try and maintain order in the area. Looked like they were going to be losing the young detective to more urgent matters in a few moments and they still hadn’t come to an agreement. They probably _wouldn’t_ have anyway, seeing as Ryan was already pretty cemented in his mindset, not even prepared to consider other possibilities. Stubborn. In the end though it wasn’t up to him – Geoff always had final call, rare as they needed him to make one. One of the many burdens of being the elected leader that weighed heavily on the man’s shoulders.

“I gotta go,” Trevor blurted out suddenly, still on the phone.

“Go,” Geoff waved him off, completely understanding. “I’ll let you know as soon as possible what we decide.”

“Thanks,” Trevor rushed, showing himself the way out. “Alright, Sarge, I’m on my way.”

“Huh. Having him around makes me think I took the less stressful career path,” Michael said, watching him go. “Who’d ever choose to be a cop…”

“Good people,” Jack replied, and then – “but mainly corrupt assholes in this city.”

“Trevor’s not a cop, he’s a detective, like Batman, that’s way cooler,” Alfredo pointed out – then looked around, “So where do we start?”

He regarded Geoff with anticipation, and Jeremy could see he was already impatient that they weren’t planning right that very second.

“We don’t know if we are going to get involved…” Geoff calmly told him. “I know most of you are keen. But this will need all of us – and I’ve got to consider everyone, and I’m not calling out anyone, I’ve got plenty of concerns myself. So give me one day. One day to clear my head and I’ll give you a decision. And we’re all in agreement that we’ll stick to it, right? … unless you want to overthrow me now.”

He was only half teasing, but they all nodded in acceptance.

“That is… that’s the most reasonable thing I’ve heard all day,” Ryan replied. “I trust you. You’ve lead us this far. I trust you’ll manage to keep us afloat and alive this time, too.”

“No need to word it like that,” Jack said, seriously – also relieved, as they all were, that Ryan was eventually back to almost normal, and was prepared to listen somewhat.

Unfortunately, Geoff’s statement had brought out the anger in another individual.

“What? Why do you need a day? We should start now!” Alfredo exclaimed, bolting upright. “You said – but… y-you shouldn’t have to think about it! You always say that we help anyone who needs it. You always say that we do whatever we can for those this city abandoned. That’s what you _always_ _say_ ,” and Jeremy knew he was mad when he shoved Jack’s hand from his shoulder, “Kids deserve our help more than anyone else, they need to know someone cares. They gotta know it’s not just them. I don’t get why you all want to wait a day… is it just cause Ryan’s being dumb?”

_Oh God._ Jeremy was on edge, though he knew never in a million years would Ryan attack Fredo in the way he had Gavin. But getting riled up again was another matter.

“No, it’s because unlike you Geoff understands we can’t just go rushing into things,” Ryan replied, calm enough for now. “You think I don’t care about what happens to these kids? You think I wouldn’t say yes in an instant if I knew there wasn’t a chance that it could end everything we’ve ever worked for?”

“But isn’t it the same?” Alfredo asked, voice small and confused. “Isn’t every job we do dangerous?”

“Yes, but this is off the charts compared to everything else,” Jack said calmly. “Even if Trevor’s able to provide assistance we’ll still be going in almost blind.”

“I’m not scared.”

Alfredo stood, and looked around accusingly, saving his strongest glare for Geoff.

“I’d like to see you say that when you’re in a one verses twenty gunfight,” Ryan remarked. “This isn’t a game, Fredo. There could be hundreds of people against us.”

“So? We’ve dealt with groups three times as big as us before.”

“Yeah,” Ryan rolled his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed, hundreds is a little more than three times our number. Maybe if you’d ever gone to school you’d have learned at least a little basic math by now.”

“Fuck you!” Alfredo’s frustration flipped to instant rage, his outburst drowning out the others snaps at Ryan. He yanked his arm away as Jack tried to grip it once more and stalked forward a few paces, then stopping, not knowing what to do other than stare daggers at Ryan.

He didn’t want a fight – he never did. He was more upset than anything. Like they’d all let him down.

_“Ryan,”_ Michael growled in warning.

Jeremy prayed that Ryan would have the sense to back down, to not rise to the bait this time. If there was anyone he’d turn a blind eye to it’d be Fredo… _C’mon… please…_

“Oh that’s a mature response, as always,” the older man retorted after a moment.

_You fucking idiot._

“I don’t fucking care!” Alfredo cried, eyes brimming with angry tears. “You’re the one who has to grow up, not me! All of you!” The expression on his face as he turned to them was one filled with hurt and anger and _bewilderment_. He just couldn’t believe that they weren’t all on the same page as him. “You’re all being dumb fucking assholes!” he yelled again, ignoring Geoff and Jack’s pleas to calm down. For a nerve-wracking moment, Jeremy wondered if he was going to pull a Ryan and smash something.

But then his head dropped, and he ran. Jeremy saw his eyes were angry, but scared, too – scared of what would happen next, the fear of their reactions to his outburst.

“Fredo, get back here!” Geoff called after him, on his feet, shoulders slumping as the only reply was the front door slamming shut. “Michael go after him, I’m the last person he’ll want following him. Well, maybe one of two. You –” he broke off with a shaky sigh directed at one man. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

Michael was on his feet instantly, heading after the boy.

Ryan shrugged. He appeared calm still, uncaring of the bitter tension he had created – and he walked off casually enough, staring dead ahead, avoiding all eyes until he was past them and out of the apartment.

“We should all take this time to think things over,” Geoff announced. “Not just this job, but everything. And Gavin, I’d like a word with you if you don’t mind. There’s something we need to discuss.”

Jeremy swallowed, an uncomfortable lump stuck in his throat, remaining glued to his seat as the others dispersed, Lindsay sending him a sympathetic look. None of them mentioned Ryan out loud, but he could tell they were replaying everything the man had said and done over in their heads, baffled by how different he had become. Relief too, that he was gone, letting them breathe a little for a while without his rotten mood filling the place, and – to be honest, for a first, at that moment in time, Jeremy was glad Ryan was gone too.

 

* * *

 

In his memories, Gavin followed his father through the busy streets of a new city.

He couldn’t remember exactly where he was. It was a city somewhere on the far side of the world, the people with far darker skin – some place in India maybe, their path lined with market stall sellers, and kids running around barefoot begging anyone for spare coin. The city itself was hot and the air close with a humidity that stuck his hair to his forehead. It felt like he was swimming on dry land – dressed up in the mini suit as he was.

This was one of his biggest jobs yet, at the mature age of ten. He and his father had gone over the plan until he knew it like the back of his hand – he was to search for something, but to remain inconspicuous as he did so. A word that meant without drawing attention to oneself, his father had taught him. He had to be very sneaky basically – being as small as he was he was perfect.

It was something very important he had to find, a small box containing a small key in a big office on the top floor, exact location unknown – but his father assured him he’d have no problem improvising, just as long as he remained small and cute and innocent, no one should suspect a thing.

It was his first real test of deception.

And he’d passed with flying colors, easily – wondered off like the bored child he was at his father’s business meeting, head down, focused on his Gameboy, made it into the correct office unquestioned, found the box in less than a minute, got caught by a stern looking woman on his way out but he’d hidden the box well and a few bats of his eyelashes and a little voice saying he was lost and she’d been like putty in his hands.

Manipulating people was second nature now, when you’d been doing it for as long as he had.

_Do you even know when you’re doing it anymore?_

“Only me,” the now familiar voice broke his thoughts – and was that chargrilled chicken? He smelt rather than saw the food first, Geoff carrying the large box in both hands, the cardboard slightly soggy from the poor delivery man who was working in the still raging storm. “Thought we could share a pizza later.”

“Cool,” he heard himself reply, gratefully. “You wanted to talk.”

“Thought it about time, don’t you?”

It should have been a simple question, but suddenly he couldn’t bring himself to answer yes or no. His shoulder blades pressed back against the glass window, anchoring him against it as he pulled his knees tight to his chest, no fear – you could shoot a dozen bullets at a window like this, wouldn’t make a dent.

Gavin opened his mouth, but no words came out. Geoff sat on the window seat too; looked at him speculatively.

“Is Alfredo okay?” he had to ask first. He hadn’t seen the boy since he’d fled, though he’d heard Michael return with him just before the evening fully settled in.

Geoff’s eyes softened with regret.

“Yeah, other than being soaked,” he told Gavin with a small smile. “He’s a good kid, okay? Earlier… that wasn’t him, I want you to know that.”

“I could see why he got angry,” Gavin admitted, admiring how quick Geoff was to defend Alfredo’s sudden rage, seeing how clearly the man didn’t want him to think any less of the boy.As if. “I could also see he didn’t like being angry one bit.”

“No.” The man laughed, a little sad. “Came and gave me the biggest hug. Soon as Michael brought him back, still dripping. Wanted to say sorry before anything else. Wanted to know I still loved him. Fucking nothing could ever stop me from loving that kid. Nothing.”

A sharp blast of pain shot through his skull. Green eyes boring into him, with an intensity they had no right possessing in their current condition, glazed and lifeless. He let out a harsh gasp, hands grabbing the back of his neck, trying to yank himself out of the past, his clothes suddenly feeling too tight around his neck so he nearly choked – the memory had hit him like a boulder out of nowhere and it all felt so very real and _present_ and all he could see was that pale, taut face with those powerful dead eyes, staring at him, the lips parted in one final unknown message.

“Gavin! C’mon – look at me, look at me – I’m right here.”

Gavin’s eyes were blurred with tears. He could barely see. Geoff’s declaration had had a profound and unexpected effect – a catalyst for an old wound, opening it up so wide it physically hurt. He fell into the arms suddenly around him, letting out a pathetic cry. For a moment he sat, dazed, breathing all over the place while someone rubbed comforting circles into his back–

_He promised he’d never stop loving you. He promised it would be you two against the world. He promised he’d never abandon you, never leave you alone –_

But he had left him, and he had been all alone, and there had been no one to love him. Gavin stiffened up – he was fighting the haunting memory back. Geoff’s arms were still wrapped around him, the man whispering into his ear.

“I was lying,” the man said suddenly.

There was a tone of desperation, but Gavin had no idea why. Still keeping his eyes firmly shut, all he could do was try and focus.

_Snap out of it._ He was making a fool of himself.

“The day you listened in on us, cause you wanted to know why we would help you,” the man continued. “I told you that I helped you because that’s just what we do.”

He was breathing in and out very heavily and haphazardly, and Gavin realized suddenly that the man was crying. Shaky voice, stuffed – he didn’t need to see, just knew the man’s eyes were damp, overflowing. He’d always been good at stuff like that – reading the world around him as if he were blindfolded, a belief that all senses were just as important as the next when it came to pure survival. Even so, emotions were never easy, ones not as simplified as the act of crying right in his ear, emotions that were a rarity for him to feel let alone recognize virtually impossible.

Thinking over this was a welcome distraction, though the memory was still there.

_Dad…_

He definitely hadn’t recognized any of his father’s emotions in the lead up to his death, his eyes burning as he squeezed them shut even tighter. He hadn’t been able to pick up on the signs that surely must have been there.

_You could have stopped it, if you been a better son…_

“I mean I wasn’t lying.” Right. Geoff was still talking. “We do help people.”

Right, that’s what these guys did. Good people. All of them. Ryan. Ryan was a good person, so perhaps that said more about Gavin than Ryan if the man didn’t like him. Ryan had better senses than him, it seemed, could pick up on the truth even when Gavin had tried to kid himself.

Geoff let out a shaky breath.

“But that’s not why I helped you. Not in the way I did.”

_Huh?_ Geoff’s voice sounded like it suddenly didn’t fit him somehow. Another kick that urged him back to the present.

“I’ve never brought anyone here.”

Geoff grabbed the sides of his head and pushed him up. Gavin blinked his eyes open – a seemingly endless task that left him a little dizzy, meeting Geoff’s equally haunted gaze. He tried to pull away, but Geoff’s grip was tight, a vacancy in the stare.

“It was foolish,” Geoff let out a cry. “I was so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not,” Gavin began to choke out. “This is all my fault –”

He broke off. Geoff was standing up and striding out with a purpose. He stopped at the coffee table, and returned with a hefty book in hand.

“This… this is what I put at risk bringing you here,” he whispered solemnly, his fingers brushing gently over the brown leather like it was some precious artifact. “This is everything we are.”

Geoff turned to Gavin and searched, hard, his blue eyes prying with an urgent intensity, the tears still protruding at the edge of his eyelids.

“I know I trust you now,” he whispered, something almost relieved in his voice. “I just… I just know. But before… you could’ve been anyone… and I just let you in. Welcomed the vampire through our doors.”

Being called a vampire was a new one, but Gavin would accept it, and looked away shamefully, unable to take the hurt in Geoff’s eyes anymore. Cold began to spread through his bones, and then his hands, clutched closed, started to shake. He should have realized this was coming, everything had been going too well, now Geoff wanted him to leave; Gavin was breaking apart their family, as unintentional as it was, he was the problem that needed to be erased.

It was nice, he thought, despite the few moments it had all been very nice – supposed he should be overjoyed he’d been given this short respite, but that didn’t make it hurt less, knowing that it was all going to go away and he would be out on his own again –

He flinched, Geoff’s hand on his, guiding it.

He lead it to the corner of the book, turned the cover over, pressed their hands firmly down on the very first page, faded a lightish beige by time and wear. Then he let go, and pushed the book into Gavin’s lap, and slumped back against the window with an expectant expression, waiting for Gavin.

Gavin peered down.

It was dated in the top corner. Fifteen years ago, be sixteen in a few months. Underneath were two names – Jack and Geoff, the first underlined multiple times and decorated in a fancy border, indicating Jack was the author. Either that or Geoff had decided to draw a dick next to his own name, which could also be possible. Gavin read down the rest of the page, frowning at first in confusion, then eyes widening in surprise, the realization of what he was looking at hitting him hard enough that he ended up re-reading the same sentence three times. Now, he’d would be lying if he said he wasn’t extremely curious about how this whole _thing_ started, but having it put in front of him so suddenly, it felt a bit obtrusive on his part.

Geoff had willingly offered it up though. Details about the first ever job taken on by a young Jack and Geoff, taking down a dodgy contract, charging exuberant rates for materials from local businesses. It stated what steps they had taken, people they had met, anything that hadn’t worked out etcetera, etcetera. Scrawled haphazardly around the more structured details were notes – red ink to make them stand out, highlighting important lessons learned or anything that was worth noting down somewhere more accessible to find at short notice – like someone self-grading their own work.

It was so strange to imagine, two young guys in a city like this, or anywhere really, making the very precise decisions that would lead them down a very uncertain and risky road, so very far, far away from what Gavin was doing at their age.

Sure there’d been plenty of danger. He’d been shot for the first time when he was nineteen – friendly fire, no one’s fault exactly, though he’s sure if there had been a way to blame it on him the others would have tried.

_No one was around to protect you after he died._

Not that he’d needed protecting by that point, he could take care of himself well enough. It had just been nice; having just one person in your corner was a hell of a lot better than having no one at all. But it had all helped toughen him up even further.

_That was a good thing… right?_

He read to the end. At the very bottom there were two lists, simply labeled “cool dudes” and “assholes”, with each having three names underneath.

_I wonder…_ He wondered how many of these “cool dudes” were allies as of this day, and vice versa if any of the assholes were causing trouble. _Fifteen years is a long time to get to know a lot of people. Insane to think of how many connections these guys must have, doing what they do. They’ve got a detective on their side, someone in politics… proves the work they do is more than just grassroots. They’ve been making a change, they are making a change. For the better. Doing what you were always told you were doing._

“Gavin?”

He looked up. In the dim light of the still have blacked out city, Geoff was looking at him nervously. His eyes had dried up now, and Gavin guessed that now it was time. Time for Gavin to be sent on his merry way with a strong sense of why they couldn’t keep him around. In a way he was grateful; Geoff wasn’t just kicking him out for no other reason than his time was up. There really was something incredibly special that they couldn’t risk losing for someone like Gavin, not when he’d been so blatant yet also vague about the life he’d left behind.

“Do you think it’s time I showed you the door?” Geoff asked. He stood up and tilted his head to Gavin, who stiffened.

He had hoped he’d get to say goodbye to some of the others first. Maybe he could just ask for a few seconds with them. He so desperately wanted to beg and plead to stay just a little longer, to experience something he’d wanted for so long – what Geoff and the others had offered so easily, companionship.

But that wouldn’t be right, he knew that deep down, it would just be delaying the inevitable, better to bite the bullet now.

_To think? You actually kinda made friends with some of them?_

Is that what he could call Alfredo? All of them, really, had been nothing but friendly, barring Ryan, obviously, and Jeremy, who until the other day he just hadn’t seen that much of.

_Even that had been changing…_ There was something about the small man, something intriguing he’d only now been getting a glimpse of.

“Okay.” He turned away as Geoff reached out a hand to his shoulder, and felt the man stiffen in surprise.

“Gavin? I’m not forcing you to do anything here – it’s all in your hands. I just thought… what do you want? You tell me and I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

His voice was so gentle, so kind – it made something well up in Gavin’s throat. “No…” he choked out. “No, it’s alright, I’ll go. Thank you for showing me that, you didn’t have to. But I understand, I can’t stay.”

Geoff stared at him liked he’d grown a second head.

“What the fuck did you think I was doing?”

_Uhh…_

“No, it’s my fault – my head, it’s all over the place – I probably just confused the shit out of you.”

_You still are._

Geoff was still squeezing his shoulder, staring at him in concern, and Gavin darted a glance at him before looking away again.

“What do you mean?” His voice came out shaky, a little too defensive. “If you think I can’t handle being told to leave, you’re mistaken.”

“I’m not asking you to leave, I’m asking you to stay!” Geoff blurted out.

…

“ _What_?”

It must have been a stupid lie that Geoff had blurted out without thinking. That’s not what he’d been saying; he needed Gavin gone to get things back to normal. There was no way that anyone in their right mind would think having him around would be a good thing. He’d been here too long; he should go now, best to leave with quietly now he thought about it. No one needed any wasted time with goodbyes.

“I’m sorry, everything got a little sidetracked, but I did come to talk to you about your future,” Geoff continued, quietly. “And that future can be one with us, or without us, or somewhere in between. It’s your choice.”

“I don’t get a choice,” Gavin replied, a bit too snappishly. “I _need_ to go, that’s the end of it.”

“Okay!” Geoff raised his hands defensively. “If that’s what you truly want, I won’t stop you. But know I’d love to have you stick around.”

Gavin could hear the clear hope in his voice, and he felt a stab of anger, biting his lip and looking away.

_He doesn’t mean it. This is a trick. There’s no way anyone would want you._ But in the back of his mind there was a feeling; a memory more than anything, the same one that he’d kept unintentionally on repeat, throughout his whole stay here, the only one that had managed to keep him relatively sane in this situation. _You’re more than you think you are._ _What does that mean? Why say that to you?_

_There had never been a chance to find out._

“Can I tell you why I literally picked you off the street?” Geoff asked then, and he sounded so vulnerable and hesitant in himself that Gavin could barely stand it.

“You…” he began, then trailed off, head in a spin. This wasn’t what it should be like; Geoff was supposed to be the one fully in control, a man who knew who he was and had everything worked out. Gavin was meant to be the only one at a loss here.

“I might have mentioned, I was an asshole as a kid,” Geoff said, abruptly. “I was born in Lucas Town which is… probably the worst of the worst even by this city’s standards. I grew up just seeing people being absolute monsters to one another. My parents were addicts and alcoholics, so I had free reign to do whatever the fuck I wanted as soon as I could walk. And I was honestly a horrible person.”

“You were?” Gavin asked, frowning. “I find that hard to believe somehow.”

“And I find it hard to believe that you could harm a fly… but what do we know. I was who I was.”

The man started walking away towards the hall, and Gavin caught up to him as he flicked the lights on. He could hear the low buzz of the TV from Michael and Lindsay’s room as they walked past, but he didn’t stop as he followed Geoff out of the front door. Geoff continued to the elevator; he stood, waiting until Gavin was next to him before reaching out and pressing his thumb against the scanner.

This was where they’d been when Gavin had first spoken; it was startling, how long ago it felt, yet in reality was no time at all.

“I was thirteen,” Geoff whispered as they began to descend. “Thirteen and already acting like a little hardened thug. Used to run with a bunch of boys my age. We called ourselves The Red Bandits. So fucking stupid. But we weren’t harmless – no, not at all. Stole shit, set fire to shit, beat up other kids younger than us.”

Gavin wasn’t quite sure he had a response to all that. But Geoff looked so distant, so thoughtful, that he didn’t think any words would have registered. There was silence in the elevator, the ride incredibly smooth for such a height they were dropping from, none of the stuttering motions that cheap elevators provided. When the doors opened it was not what he expected; they were at the very lowest level, minus four, and he’d been expecting the darkness, but not this pitch black, narrow tunnel.

“You ever been to juvie, Gavin?”

“What?”

“Thirteen was also when I got locked up. I mean I’d spent a couple nights behind bars here and there… almost _unavoidable_ in Lucas Town.” He reached out a hand into the darkness, then twisted something which turned out to be a flashlight. “We don’t bother using this anymore, could walk it eyes closed, but for your benefit –”

Gavin’s heart thudded. This was really happening, Geoff was really trusting him this much.

“Locked up… thirteen seems a bit young –”

“I was an asshole,” Geoff repeated.

Gavin followed him through the darkness, through what seemed like a maze of tunnels, the smell of damp following too.

“And… actually the best word for it is murderer. I was a murderer.”

He thought he’d imagined it at first, and almost felt like it was some cruel joke Geoff was playing on him, but there was no way the man could know. Gavin hadn’t told them anything about that, and now Geoff had stopped, finally coming to a rest against a heavy iron door; there was a real pain in his eyes, bluer than usual from the ghostly white the flashlight turned his skin. A pain, pain from committing an act you knew you could never take back…. was that what Gavin looked like if he didn’t catch himself…

“One of the boys I used to roll with. Tommy. He had this older sister. Real pretty, like. Got a lot of attention, y’know. Cause she didn’t look like the other girls, prostitutes a lot of them – I mean, she was too, but she wasn’t an addict so I guess that made her some kind of prime target. It worked out for a while, she earned quite a lot of money but then… any attention in Lucas is bad attention. Tommy gets home one day to find here lying across the bed, dead. A John had strangled her to death. And so we set out to get revenge like the young justice seekers we were.”

The words sent another deeply buried memory spiraling to the surface. His mother. And all those nights he’d been kept so oblivious of how she was making money.

“What are you doing?” he asked as Geoff grabbed his hand and placed it at the side of the door. “What is this?”

“Feel that small hole? Yeah? Push it in and turn it clockwise ninety degrees,” Geoff replied. He stepped back as Gavin struggled for a moment, but then – a loud click and what looked like two hundred pounds of solid metal swung open gracefully. Geoff took a little bow. “Ah, voila.”

Gavin looked in. There were lights in this room, and filled with boxes, and it didn’t smell of damp. Geoff turned off the flashlight he’d been holding and planted it in a holder on the wall and gestured for Gavin to follow him again. There were a set of stairs leading up to another door, normal and wooden this time.

Several moments later, a few more storage rooms and one more set of stairs – the final door, most certainly, the sound of the city were so close, and Geoff allowed him to do the final honor of unveiling the grand reveal. He pushed it open gently… and surprise! Well, it wasn’t really anything fancy.

The medium-sized thrift shop showed no signs of activity. Gavin wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting but this certainly took nondescript to a new level.

He turned back to Geoff and found him sitting in a chair behind the counter, watching Gavin with a small smile. He stretched his arms out wide. “Ta-da!”

_You really would never be found if you just stayed inside for the rest of your life…_

“Burnie found this place for us. Had a guy called Matt set up everything. If we leave in a vehicle there’s a garage we can exit with the normal folk, but on foot we prefer this way. Anyone sees us coming or going after hours we’re just shop workers. No one would give a damn if people were robbing this place anyway. Took a while for the guys to get used to it but now it’s just second nature, and yes – it might seem like overkill but… no one’s going to mess with my family in our _home_.”

There was something Geoff wasn’t mentioning. Something dark and angry that had flashed in his eyes. A past experience, Gavin thought, but not one the man was telling now. He was however…

“What were you saying? Gavin asked, cautiously. “All that stuff about you as a kid… what’s that gotta do with me?”

Geoff’s anger was vanquished. The hazed, remorseful stare returning.

“We made a mistake,” he said simply. “And it cost a man his life.”

He let out a shaky breath and rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I should’a gone away much longer than I did but… I dunno, guess they didn’t see me as a main accomplice or… they just couldn’t afford to keep me in that long. But, Gavin, I…” He broke off with a heartfelt sigh. “When I saw you lying there for a second it was like I was seeing that man lying there, crying out for help, bleeding out, while I just stood and stared, and then _ran_ – this… you… it sounds stupid but that was the first time I’ve ever felt that way and you’re definitely not the first injured person I’ve seen, but for some reason the moment I saw you – I dunno, you were different. I just had to help you. Personally help you - felt driven to.”

“How?”

Geoff let out a breathless laugh. “Fuck if I know, little scrawny thing you were, maybe it really is just me going soft with age.”

He turned to Gavin, serious again. “Give me one good reason for you to not stick around.”

“Huh?”

“Go on, give me a reason why you shouldn’t stay with us.”

Gavin didn’t have to think long. “The people I was with. You could all get in terrible trouble if they track me down.”

Geoff waved a dismissive hand. “Deal with that later if it comes to it. Like I already said, AC, not exactly the easiest place to find someone. I need something better than that.”

“Ryan –”

“ _Ryan_ is not going to get in the way. Ryan had anger issues long before you got here, it’s nothing that you’ve caused. C’mon, give me one.”

Gavin swallowed. “I… uh…”

Geoff’s eyes crinkled a little. “There isn’t one, is there? Thought as much.”

“I –”

“Y’know, you’d be doing us a favor. I’ve decided: we’re going to take the job. We’re going to take these fuckers down. We’ll throw everything we have at them and I’d like it if that included a scrawny little British man.”

“I’m not that scrawny!”

Geoff barked out a laugh, and put a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Well, you’ve seen me cry now. And every person who’s ever seen me cry I’ve either ended up marrying or they’re one of the idiots living with me.” He gave Gavin a cocky wink. “So… you wanna get your dress fitting or just come back and see how you like being one of the idiots?”

There was a moments silence, filled with anticipation and astonishment on either end.

But after a moment, Gavin allowed himself to grin.  And then he couldn't stop.

* * *

 

 

“I thought this would be where you’d holed up,” Jeremy stated.

“Good guess,” Ryan grunted in reply. “I suppose Geoff sent you to retrieve me.”

They were in a small bar called The Hanging Bat, located twenty minutes or so away from home. Ryan hadn’t touched alcohol since he was a teen, and just nursed a glass of diet coke, an act which might have earned him some disdain from the proprietors had he not been such a regular customer over the years.

It was midday and Jeremy was pissed.

He hadn’t seen or heard from Ryan since he’d walked out. And in that time a lot had happened. Right now he was here out of necessity, probably could have done with a few more days of not having to look the man in the eye. But they still needed to go into this as a team and the others were waiting, because that is the conclusion Geoff had come to – they were going to take these motherfucking traffickers down.

“I assume you read Jack’s text,” Jeremy commented, voice tight. “We needed you back this morning. I didn’t want to come and fetch you like a damn child. But here we are.”

“Yeah, well, can’t all get what we want, can we…” Ryan added, and Jeremy’s face hardened further.

“We’ve been patient,” he murmured. “I’ve cut you so much slack over the past few weeks because I _know you…_ or at least I thought I did.”

He could see Ryan trying to figure this out. Seriously, the guy was doubting Jeremy and the others, that they had been nothing but understanding and sensitive about whatever the shit going on in his head was. It wasn’t like they hadn’t tried to find a _compromise_. They hadn’t delivered an ultimatum - Gavin or Ryan, only one can be victorious - but it was like the man had an obsession with hating the newcomer. And he’d never given an explanation further than “I don’t like him so you shouldn’t either”.

“Up until now I’ve been consumed with worry for you,” Jeremy continued, darkly. “But after yesterday and all the shit you fucking said to everybody, I honestly couldn’t wait to see the back of you, I’m sorry to say. Ryan, I love you, and I’m still worried, but this has to stop. _Now_.”

“Eh, I have my moments of unpredictability, thought it was part of my charm,” Ryan said flatly.

“Do you seriously not understand why I’m so worried?”

“No more than you not understanding why _he_ can’t stay. I said what was needed. You’re all going doe-eyed over the stray, figured we needed a counter-argument, y’know fairness and all that –”

“I don’t care why you fucking said it,” Jeremy snapped all of a sudden - harsh enough for Ryan to take a break and look at him with wide eyes, like he was only just now realizing how pissed off the younger man was. “I don’t care what fucking bullshit is making you act out like this - you don’t say shit like that to Fredo.” He let out a small huff, shaking his head in disbelief. “You just don’t,” he repeated, a little lost of words.

“It wasn’t my _fucking plan_ to upset him, you know I love the kid,” Ryan shot back. “I wasn’t angry at him.”

“Well, you certainly hit him right where you knew it’d hurt,” Jeremy countered, accusingly. “And all over what exactly? Because he was getting a little overexcited? Unlike Gavin, you _know_ him. And you know better than to handle it the way you did.”

Ryan and Jeremy glared at each other for a moment longer, then Ryan nodded.

“I’ll apologize as soon as I get back,” he said, standing up. “Best get going. No need to keep them waiting any longer. I’ll be a good boy.”

“Then let’s go,” Jeremy said. He didn’t question Ryan’s quick change in attitude; he just wanted to get back.

The building the bar was in was lodged tightly between two much larger ones. Jeremy always thought it looked like it could be squashed in on itself at any moment – eaten up by the large brick apartment blocks on either side. Now, the neighborhood was dead, an area on the outskirts of their own, a weird purgatory between the bustling streets of their more business-oriented district and the equally loud but far more poor south side of the city – Jeremy’s neck of the woods – if you left the bar, turned right and kept on walking, as the crow flies you’d be in Old Sanders in forty minutes or so.

When they got back to the thrift shop – a place named Funky Munky which never ceased to amuse Jeremy – Ryan took one look through the door and glowered. It was all dark inside, as was a large portion of all the buildings, still shrouded in darkness after the explosion at the power station – not all were gifted the luxury of having an emergency backup light source, and as such even in this normally bustling neighborhood everything was pretty quiet. There was something animalistic at the way Ryan glared through the glass – something terrifyingly wild.

He walked in after a moment, Jeremy following a few paces behind, and shuffled through the back door and the several rooms to the secure tunnel entrance, passing through that door and then through yet more of the dark passageways that had run under the city since it’s birth, both walking the route easily in the dark. They’d walked this path a thousand times before, sneaking through the maze and spilling seamlessly into the busy streets with no one ever being any wiser.

Geoff had brought Gavin out this way. Jeremy had noticed the two of them were missing – and he’d checked the camera feed, just to make sure – been kinda relieved, it would finally feel like they weren’t keeping him captive. By the time the two had returned it was dark, and the difference in Gavin had been like night and day, a smile on his face that left Jeremy slack-jawed. A fire in his eyes that spoke of determination.

They shuffled along in silence, single-file through the cramped, winding tunnels.

“What’s so special about this Gavin?” Ryan demanded, abruptly, not looking back.

It was like he could sense Gavin had walked this same way, like a hound on the trail of a fox.

“Knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for long,” Jeremy grunted, as they squeezed through a particularly narrow section of tunnel. He kept one hand in front of him so as not to walk into Ryan. “I don’t have any strong opinion on him. But he’s a nice guy and he’s got skills that we could use.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Ryan muttered.

“You just hate that he hasn’t done anything to make us distrust him yet.”

“Oh really!” the man exclaimed. “I must have imagined that whole thing, y’know the whole spying on our conversation with Trevor! All the fucking secrecy! This _organization_ he brings up out of the blue and won’t tell us anything about.”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly spying. We never told him it was private, it was our fault, really,” Jeremy said. “And he’s been here less than a month. How long’d it take to get you talking?”

A stiff pause.

“I was different.”

“Oh? Were you?”

Ryan fell silent. He was annoyed with him – Jeremy could practically feel the hostility he was radiating, for once directed solely at him. He figured the only reason Ryan had come back so willingly now was so he could have another attempt getting all the others to see his point of view, whatever the fuck that actually was. He’d never told them anything, nothing that could swing their minds – if this were a court case the defense would say there was no solid evidence. But in Ryan’s world he wanted to be judge, jury, and executioner.

He wasn’t sure how the others would react when they returned. Maybe they could, like… work out something where they kept Gavin and Ryan separate for a while. Dumb and impractical as it sounded. He didn’t know how much more he could take of Ryan being an asshole.

He wished there was someone he could turn to. Someone else, not involved with them, who could give him greater insight into the way Ryan was acting. But there was no one, at least no one Jeremy could get in contact with, no friendly face from Ryan’s past who could lend a hand.

It was strange thinking that before Jeremy and the others there was no one, so many years of life lived without a single soul he could trust or confide in. Eerie and lonely, even – nothing but hurt and pain after hurt and pain and the feeling that he was somehow to blame for the monsters that surrounded him. Jeremy was not only the first person he’d loved, but the first person he’d allowed himself to truly get close to, like the younger man was a freedom he’d been missing his whole life.

But what if after all that he still wasn’t good enough? Because if Jeremy couldn’t break through to Ryan, he didn’t know who could be there to take his place.

What was it his dad used to quote?

_In time we hate that which we often fear._

Could it be?

_Gavin… are you… are you afraid of him, Ryan?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed update! Meant to have this out a week ago but got sidetracked by boring adult stuff haha! Hopefully this long-even-for-me chapter somewhat makes up for it! Love y'all!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning: Includes references to drug abuse/addiction

Jack was never normally one to lie awake in the dark, especially not for longer than Geoff.

Maybe it was the shock of Trevor’s latest proposal, the most hideous crime they’d come up against yet. Or the fact that the past few weeks seemed to have been non-stop, it may have worn his body out but now his mind was overworked more than ever. He was certain Geoff was asleep, although he couldn’t see the man’s side of the room from where the half wall blocked it - it was all very quiet, and Geoff tended to squirm and fidget until he dropped off.

He turned and cast his gaze out onto the cityscape. He hadn’t drawn the blinds tonight and the city’s buildings glistened in the darkness, power finally starting to be restored in their district, the cars racing down below like little fire ants - huge skyscrapers which were covered head to toe in glass, reflecting the lights back - creating a kind of illusion of an endless expanse.

He heard someone trying at the door, turned to see it open, and smiled gently as the head peeked around the corner. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping that night.

“This side, Fredo,” he commented. He saw no point in the kid going to Geoff when Jack himself was already awake.

Quietly - the boy padded over almost noiselessly to Jack’s half, stopping at the end of the bed and looking out of the window too.

“This side looks completely different to the view from the main room,” he breathed, staring out. “Do you always have the blinds open? Don’t all the lights get annoying?”

He walked forward and stood pressed up against the window, raising one hand flat on the glass. Jack had never got used to the look of wonderment that still seemed to fill his expression whenever he fully took in the vastness of the city, how huge it was, amazed more than most after living as he had for so long. It made Jack’s heart warm - watching that childlike awe. He also wondered what had brought Fredo to his room though, and was pretty sure it wasn’t just to admire the view.

“I keep them open when my mind’s in one of it’s wandering moods,” Jack commented, studying the boy. He was dressed in dark sweat shorts and a blue t-shirt that looked slightly too big to be his, Ryan’s maybe, the fabric hanging loosely over his lean frame. “Speaking of wandering, what brings you here at this hour? Couch not doing it for you anymore?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s actually kinda cool in there cause I have the TV and all the snacks,” Alfredo said, and Jack scoffed out a laugh.

He regarded the boy some more. He did, in fact, seem a bit out of sorts, despite the relaxed presence he had about him. Instinctively, Jack slid to one side of the bed and lifted back the covers back at bit, gesturing to the free space with a smile, breaking into a grin when all it took was a few seconds for Alfredo to jump in next to him. It seemed like the kid was in one of his attention seeking moods; not in a bad way but more of a thing he did when there was something wrong but he didn’t know quite how to explain it to the others.

When he first started living with them he had always been sneaking into Geoff and Jack’s beds, and they hadn't minded. As far as they saw it, who cared where he slept as long as it wasn’t on the street or in some crackhouse anymore.

“Oh, you’ve got cold feet!” Jack exclaimed. “Get those away from me, you vampire.”

“But it’s not my fault, you’re on my side,” Alfredo replied cheekily. “I never got why you needed a bed this _huge_. But then I realized you sleep like a starfish… also, I guess it’s good for when I come in.”

He squirreled down further under the covers and curled his head into Jack’s shoulder. Jack leaned into him, feeling the light breath tickling his skin. He could almost hear the cogs turning in Alfredo’s head, his own mind overrun with thoughts at this late hour.

He didn’t think he was particularly sad or upset. Nothing compared to the way he’d stormed out yesterday at least. Ryan had returned with Jeremy and apologised, Alfredo had excepted instantly, and things had chugged along relatively smooth for the rest of the day. But there was still a kind of worry lingering, and Jack waited patiently, and Alfredo eventually let out a slow sigh.

“I acted dumb.”

He surprised Jack with how disgusted he sounded. He glanced down at him, saw the wide eyes shining under the city lights. He tugged him closer.

“You were understandably upset,” he said, quietly. “And Ryan… well, Ryan was being a jerk. No one blames you for getting angry.”

“But you always say yelling doesn’t solve anything – that’s what you always say. And I know it wasn’t an easy choice for Geoff to make,” Alfredo argued, reaching a hand up to pull his fingers anxiously on Jack’s shirt. “This isn’t like anything we’ve done before.”

“No, but it’s the right thing to do,” Jack commented, and Alfredo tilted his head to gaze up at him.

His eyes were marred by a darkness, shadows that still hadn’t quite gone away even after all these years. It was often a reminder to Jack to remember the kid wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows and everything he tried to be for their little family. There was still a good deal of hurt in there too.

“He worries about us a lot,” Alfredo said thoughtfully. “Whenever there’s a new job, the first thing he thinks about is how dangerous it might be for us.”

“That’s Geoff,” Jack said.

Alfredo hummed. He dropped his hand from where he’d been playing with Jack’s shirt and burrowed down further until his chin and mouth had disappeared.

“What happened to Ray still hurts him a lot,” he declared, and Jack stiffened, the bad memories awakening.

What happened to Ray had happened almost six years ago now, and yet the wounds could still just as easily be opened. Alfredo had never met him and only knew as much as they told him. Though rarely needed, Ray had been the one they’d go to if they ever needed a sniper for a job, and he’d always been intrigued. Then again, the kid was curious about anything and everything. The fact that they were both excellent marksmen didn’t mean they were any bit similar personality wise.

_Ray would have liked him all the same_ , Jack couldn’t help but think, recalling the quiet young man’s sarcastically witty personality, a wistful smile on his face. _Could come across as aloof and standoffish, but underneath it all beat a heart of gold. Yeah, he would have liked Fredo very much._

Speaking of Fredo’s, the boy’s head was starting to feel heavier on his shoulder, tiredness finally starting to overcome him. However, a moment later he was shaking it a little, attempting to wake himself up, perhaps noticing the effect his words had had on Jack.

“We’ll always remember Ray,” Jack told him

He said it as gently as possible, not wanting him to think he was the cause of Jack’s upset, because he wasn’t. Sometimes the memories were just harder to push away… innocent comments could send him down roads he hadn’t walked in a long time. But they were just memories, happy and funny and sad memories, but still just memories in the end. He’d always carry them with him but what was more important were the ones he made now. It was moments like this, with the boy he’d adopted as his little brother, someone who placed such an unquestionable trust in him that Jack never failed to find incredible and, at times, downright scary. That was a lot of pressure for someone who had never before considered the thought of being seen as a role model.

“Can you tell me something about Ray?” Alfredo murmured.

“Of course I can, what would you like to know?” Jack replied, and Alfredo paused. They both started at the sudden violently loud snore emitting from the other side of the room. Jack could only hope they’d both be able to find some sleep if Geoff was going to decide to do that constantly, but right now he chuckled along with Alfredo.

“You choose,” Alfredo suggested when all was quiet again. “I don’t mind what you tell me as long as it’s something new.”

Jack hesitated. He struggled to remember what they’d already told him – pretty sure he knew all about the crazy jobs, times when they would have been done for were it not for Ray and his quick thinking and even quicker trigger finger. He glanced down at Alfredo, who looked like he might fall asleep any second.

“I’ll tell you about something incredible he once did,” Jack suggested, quietly. “But you have to promise not to jump in with questions every ten seconds or we’ll both be asleep before I finish it.”

Alfredo grinned, tilted his head to one side ready to listen, nudging Jack’s shoulder.

“I’ll be good,” he insisted, and mimed zipping his lips shut.

“Uh huh,” Jack said. He gave the dark head a gentle nudge, and Alfredo gave a small smile before he settled down and waited for Jack to begin.

“This was back when it was only the five of us. Me, Geoff, Michael and Lindsay, and Ray…”

 

…

 

It had been a mid-July day when they’d found the kid. _Hot_ was not the word, nowhere close – they had never had a summer like it since, and Jack prayed they never would.

He and Ray had been leaving the building. At first glance, it looked just like any other crumbling house, but as they wandered to the front door and paused, a blue light turned on and the metal door clunked apart. They exited, and Ray flipped his middle finger to the camera watching them.

The kid had been running with them for a year or so, still only nineteen. He had that youthful cockiness, much like Michael and Lindsay. But there was a certain maturity in him too, a look in his eyes of a man well beyond his teenage years.

_Is that a foster kid thing? They certainly learn to grow up quicker than most kids._

The guy they’d just been to see was an arms dealer. He provided good quality weapons to anyone with the money, and was a necessary evil they couldn’t avoid. Neither was his base of operations, unfortunately – dusty and dark, animal heads stuck on the walls with their mismatched glass eyes, the overpowering stench of alcohol that lingered in the air and on the man. Images of girls, naked, what looked like horses in some of them – it was hard to tell, the drawer was not the most skilled artist Jack had ever seen.

They had what they came for. It was a sobering reminder that in a few days there was a strong chance they’d have blood on their hands once more – another girl had been kidnapped by a group who made kidnapping their business, charging the victims friends and families for everything they had - if not, they killed them, dumped the heads at the relatives doors. This had been the tenth in six weeks, and though no one had contacted them for help they were taking action. They were still building up their reputation as far as jobs went, though word was eventually getting around that there were a group of guys who even the lowest of the low could call on.

_Lots of people brushed you off for years._ Never mind they’d been doing nothing but for the past five, people in this city found it very hard to believe there was anyone like that who’d exist. They’d call it all lies – they’d say they were just stories you’d tell children to make them think the world wasn’t as cruel and evil as it really was.

_But things were changing. Whispers. More and more people took note. The good, the bad, and the ugly._

He walked back out into the street and closed his eyes briefly, trying to readjust to the sweltering heat. Ray had found a stray soccer ball. The kid was dancing around him, commentating on his own fine footwork before aiming a hefty kick at a dumpster in the alley – for no apparent reason, but he had. When a cry emitted from the dumpster he found himself following Ray as the kid strode towards it, a little cautious, hand over his gun.

Someone was inside, they could hear coughing. Jack stepped into big brother mode and moved in front of Ray. Though he mightn’t look it, his reflexes were probably the quickest out of everybody’s, or as he liked to call them, “getting the fuck outta the way” skills.

The stench was bad enough to scare rats off – probably filled with rotting food from the local Chinese takeouts. Flies buzzed frantically around the lid as Jack carefully pried it open.

There was a man there.

Actually, boy would be a more precise word, just a kid, younger than Ray even, though it was hard to tell. His face was gaunt – grime smudges and puffy red eyes, and dark hair so unkempt it had matted together. Cowering back into the trash bags and meal leftovers – throwing up two skinny arms, attempting to hide his face, shaking something ferocious even under the intense heat –

Ray let out an audible gasp.

Jack had recognized it too. Though he might have grown up substantially more sheltered than a lot of other kids in this city he could still pick it out in an instant. The telltale signs of someone who shot it up regularly, recent fresh lesions – little puncture wounds, bruises and scabs, and older track marks that showed up as discolored, raised scars. This kid was a heroin user, a heavy one at that, and had been for some time.

Shudders still went through Jack’s spine every time he pictured that sight in his head, it was like the sharpest stab in the gut to see a literal child reduced to so little, of the dull eyes that had nothing left to live for, all spark drained from them. As he stood frozen a lump rose in his throat, the dumpster lid dropping back against the wall – overwhelmed by the sudden, terrible upset.

_Oh, gods._

_This kid’s too far gone._

_Help him as much as they want, there’s next to no hope for him – can't give him the proper help he needs, not in this city… taking him to the hospital would only delay the inevitable a few more hours. No one cares about kids like this. He’ll be back out here in no time. Along with the thousands of others._

_Never found one in a dumpster before…_

The knowledge that there was very little they could do to seriously help the boy sent a sour feeling down his throat; he clenched his fists, tears spilling from his screwed up eyes.

The boy just remained as he was, cowering.

Suddenly there was a flurry of motion; Ray was digging around in his backpack and pulling out a jacket he had decided to bring for some insane reason. It came in use now however, he took it and a bottle of water and walked up to Jack’s side, and then jumped straight in next to the boy after a quick survey to make sure the kid wasn’t carrying anything dangerous. His presence only made the kid cry out pitifully and try his best to bury himself amongst the garbage.

But Ray was determined – put the jacket around the small shoulders, held him gently as he pressed the water to cracked lips. Jack could see the silent tears tracking down the teen’s face, but he didn’t loosen his hold – the shaking from the youngster finally settling a little, and exhaustion seemed to take over, leaning heavily into Ray’s side. He looked to Jack then and asked him wordlessly for help – together, it was a lot harder than it should have been to lift someone so skinny but one of them being in a dumpster didn’t help, the whole thing almost toppling over and spilling them both onto the ground, but eventually the kid was safely ensconced in Jack’s arms. He had no idea what they were supposed to do now, guessed dropping him off at the hospital was their only choice, despite how it would achieve absolutely nothing in the long run.

“Jack?”

The voice broke through his inner turmoil and brought him back to reality.

_Ray_ , he recognized – he twisted around, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision, and found the kid holding his phone out, looking disgusted. His face screwed up, angrily stuffing his phone back into his pocket, and stared with furious crimson cheeks at the boy in Jack’s arms, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on the bony shoulder, as if checking he were real.

“I called for an ambulance…” Ray choked out, eyes growing darker and darker until they were pitch black. “They said they couldn’t come… when I told them who it was they said they _wouldn’t_ come. That they don’t spare the time for addicts.”

“What, can they even do that? Did you tell them it’s just a kid? That he’s real bad?”

“Wouldn’t make any difference…” he reached up and pulled back the eyelids, studying the dull eyes closely. “We have… we have to do something.”

He started to pull Jack away. They’d taken the subway and walked here but that wasn’t a good option now; Ray called for a cab and they drove back home, a rundown apartment complex on the east side, both trying to keep the kid hydrated and somewhat awake the whole journey.

“Shit,” Jack breathed, once they’d finally made it back. “Now what do we do?”

Besides recognizing the signs of an addict, he knew next to nothing about dealing with one.

“Put him in my room…” Ray sniffed, rubbing a hand across his face, and looked up, meeting Jack’s worried eyes. “I’ll clear everything out. Then just let him be. I’ll stay with him, if I need anything I’ll call out. I’m gonna write some stuff down and if you can get it that’d be great, if not then it’s gonna be even more fucking hellish. But I’m not leaving him. He is _not_ going to be let out of this room until I say so, Jack.”

Jack nodded, stunned and surprised. He hugged the boy closer to him, and did as Ray asked, placing him on the bed in his room.

“Are you sure about this?” he whispered. “There’s gotta be someplace we can take him. He’s not your responsibility, Ray.”

“You want to just abandon a kid?”

“You know that’s not what I mean…” Everything had happened so quickly Jack just wanted to take a minute to think.

“There’s nowhere else he can go. Nowhere that I’d trust for him not to be back on the streets tomorrow anyway; at least here I can keep an eye on him. And why this kid when there’s so many others I’ve probably just walked by, well… Because I have walked past so many, and never had the courage to do what I should have done. But then I went and kicked a soccer ball at one, so I couldn’t exactly ignore it this time. I have to do this. You gotta understand, Jack, I have to help him. Like how you and Geoff knew you had to start this whole crew thing… there’s something in me which won’t let me let this one go.”

He worded it perfectly, and Jack could only nod.

“I’ll get you that list,” Ray continued, “Methadone shouldn’t be too hard, Buprenorphine – might be a little harder but they both act in a way that discourages misuse. Naltrexone – now that would be perfect but I don’t know where’d you’d get it from.”

“I’ll ask around right away, let the others know too so they’re not shocked when they get in.”

“Thanks. I promise I won’t mess things up, really. I’m definitely no expert, but I’ve seen a lotta addicts growing up. Might just be this kid’s best chance.”

“I don’t doubt you for a second.” The outlook was pretty grim but he was certain Ray would do everything in his power to help. _Always saw you as mature for your age… but when did you suddenly grow up so quickly?_

Jack smiled as he took Ray’s note.

“I’ll do my best, too,” he said, firmly, and Ray clapped him on the shoulder.

As Ray had predicted, he only managed to obtain the first two drugs on the list. Maybe Lindsay would be able to con her way into getting the last one, but he didn’t want to leave Ray for too long, no matter how self-assured the kid had tried to seem. Taking on a responsibility like this was huge, or so much he had heard. And the moment he returned a few hours later it was clear things were already heating up.

He could hear shouting before he’d even opened the door, unfamiliar, the voice was hoarse and frantic and he hurried to check on the two, knocking loudly on the door when he found it was locked. Ray called back that everything was fine, but Jack’s heart didn’t slow, not until the shouting had finally ceased and Ray poked his head around.

“Oh, thank God,” he said, spying the drugs. “I really need those. He woke up about ten minutes ago, claimed that we’d kidnapped him. Which I guess isn’t entirely untrue… but I tried to tell him all we wanted to do was help, he wasn’t having none of it. Starting to sweat something fierce too, this fucking heat isn’t helping. Would be great if they chose this time to finally fix the AC, but I’m settling for ice packs right now. Oh and I’m gonna keep this door locked, he may be small but he’s pretty strong. And as you heard; not exactly in the best of moods currently…”

He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

“When the others get back tell them I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I should’a thought about everyone else. It’s not exactly going to be peaceful in here for a while. And I am still kinda the new guy, I never meant to overstep my mark – but they’ll get it, right? They won’t be mad at me…?”

“I think they’ll be proud to see you helping out someone who desperately needs it,” Jack said, softly. “Taking point rather than just following our lead. Being part of our group may have shaped you over time, but it doesn’t define you. You’re your own man.”

Ray nodded. After a moment, he gave a small smile, and Jack smiled back. His heart surged with affection for the teen. He knew Ray looked up to all them, even little Lindsay who, despite being younger, had been part of the crew longer, but suddenly he felt himself nearly overcome with admiration for what Ray was preparing to take on; how easily one could say they wanted to do the right thing, how hard it was to actually take that step and take command in literally saving the life of another, especially when he’d been forsaken so much in his own life.

He handed off the meds and Ray gently shut the door, locking it again, while Jack went and sorted out their original business for the others return. When they did, it was all he could do to keep up with the onslaught of questions, only to freeze when there was a loud _crash_ from Ray’s room.

“What the fuck was that?” Geoff cried, whipping his face to the door.

“Nothing! It’s alright!” Ray replied, and they glanced at one another as the unfamiliar voice started shouting again, all ready to jump into action if need be.

The first week had been more than chaotic, and more than once Jack wound’t have blamed Ray if he gave in. Aggression, that was the loudest problem they had but it didn’t even begin to cover everything else, from the insomnia to the muscle aches and spams. The drugs that Jack had managed to find were apparently helping, but Jack dreaded to think what the kid would be like if he didn’t have them, or Ray’s ever constant presence by his side. Ray really was like a guardian angel, even if his charge couldn’t appreciate it, he was there twenty-four seven to make sure he stayed hydrated and didn’t end up hurting himself during one of his mood swings.

“Damn it!” Ray cried one day, after a period of rare quiet. The door swung open and his eyes were wide and frantic, his hair messy as though he’d been tearing at it.

“Ray?” Jack called out. “What’s the matter?”

He began to run over to him, but staggered to a halt when he caught sight of the room behind him, a slow smile creeping onto his face.

“What the –”

“He won’t stop!” Ray cut in. He threw his arms out, gesturing wildly at the scene inside. The boy who’d looked on death's door not so long ago, was bouncing on the bed. Ray took a step back, as if after all he’d been through this was the most alarming development, for the first time looking to Jack to take over.

“Alright,” Jack cried out. “That’s _enough_! You’ll go right through in a moment.” He turned to Ray, amusement written across his face. “If this is all part of the detox process… it’s a stage I much prefer. C’mon, I’ll make sure all the windows and doors are locked, how about we let him out of the room for a bit?” he suggested. “What do you think? You’re the expert here.”

It only took a few more bounces for Ray to agree that was a good idea, grabbing the TV remote and shaking it in the air, like he was enticing a dog with a bone. Jack laughed as the boy bounced off the bed and straight into the next room, wide-eyed and excited. He looked a lot better already. Just showed, a shower and a haircut could do someone the world of difference. And it had been a surprise to find out his hair was actually blond, having been fooled into thinking it far darker purely because of how dirty it had been.

Things had only got better and better, and rapidly so – they’d got to know the kid, once he was through the worst of the detox they could actually start up proper conversations with him. His story was nothing special. Got involved with drugs from a young age, got kicked out of home, got even more involved. It was how so many stories went, but it didn’t make it any less awful.

Of course, it all had to take a turn for the worse at some point. For someone who’d been using as long and as heavily as that kid had, they’d been fools to think he could get over it without some professional help. Not just medical, but psychological.

“Jack! He’s gone!” Ray yelled. Jack flinched at his sudden shout, and how it echoed through the quiet corner store. “I said I was going out for five minutes and he _promised_ me he’d be fine, but he’s not there, when I got back… he’d gone, took two hundred dollars from my drawer. I didn’t think he knew about it. Oh fuck. I’m so fucking stupid to think I could ever do this!”

Jack opened his mouth, but Ray raised a hand.

“ _Don’t_ tell me it’s not my fault!” he snapped. “It is, I’m the one to _blame_ ,” he struck his chest with one closed fist and Jack felt a pained jolt, hating the raw desperation in his voice, something near to self-loathing. It wasn’t something he’d ever seen from Ray before, Ray who was always so determined to prove that he was a big man who could handle anything, who’d proudly taken on a task no teen should ever have to. “I was stupid enough to think I could do this on my own and everything would be fine…”

Jack had hugged him. “You’re not alone, we’re always here for you,” he whispered. Ray was scrubbing at his face now. His eyes were red when he looked up at him again.

“I just…” his voice broke, and he swallowed. “I really liked the kid, y’know? Didn’t know if I would – but he’s funny, right? He’s a nice kid, we all like him – this isn’t _fair_!”

Jack took a step back and studied the young man. Ray took a step back, and Jack felt something in himself snap.

“Standing here crying’s not going to solve anything,” he commanded – he sounded strict, but there was a deep care beneath it, a desperation to find the kid that matched Ray’s. “You know him better than any of us. I’ll call Geoff to bring the car back, you can use it. Meanwhile I’ll round up the rest of the guys and we’ll hit the streets. We’ll find him, Ray.”

For a moment he was quiet, but then, “You’re right,” Ray said, and held his head up high. “Better check the hospitals – to be safe. He’s been doing so well, but I was stupid to think I could just leave him like that. I… I wanted to help him so much cause somehow it felt like I was fixing something from my past but… I dunno, I might have undone everything…”

“Go and get him,” Jack said, firmly, meeting the teen in the eyes.

He’d needed no further encouragement.

Ray _had_ found him eventually. Tracked him down to a bus stop, crying and afraid, called the others just to be sure he wouldn’t make a bolt for it again, Jack remembered seeing the raw _pain,_ and the utter shock that went through the kid’s body when all Ray had done was hug him while starting to cry too – a mix of anger, guilt, _relief_.

They had brought him home, but it hadn’t been for long. Ray had left for an hour or so, and when he returned there was a sombreness about him.

“You’re going to listen and do as I say,” he told the kid. “I’m getting you _out_ of here. I’m taking you someplace that can really help. Someplace where you can get better fully. Professional help, not just some kid like me,” he told him, blinking back tears. “And don’t you argue with me. It’s already sorted. I’m taking you there myself this evening. Don’t worry, this isn’t a punishment. This is just something that needs to happen. It’s because I care. I care so fucking much.”

“Ray… I… _why_?”

“… because that’s what we do. That’s who we are.”

Turned out Ray had thrown all his life savings into this, including selling off the one piece of value left to him by his mother – a gold locket. He said he didn’t need it anymore, that she’d have wanted this, paying for medical care nowhere in Achievement City could provide.

It might have been the shock of it all, but the kid hadn’t put up much of a fight. Maybe he had finally been done fighting.

“I think I _know_ you guys,” he said, just before he and Ray left. “People used to talk – but no one ever believed it. I didn’t either. Cause people like that just don’t exist here. That’s what I used to think. But now I know better. You really are real, aren’t you? You’re not just some story people made up? You’re not, like, fictional or fake or imaginary or anything. You’re, like… you’re _the_ Fakes.”

Geoff let out a small chuckle. “ _The_ Fakes?”

The kid smirked sheepishly. “I dunno, it sounded cooler in my head.”

They’d shared the moment a little longer, and then the kid and Ray were gone – the way they all glanced at each other was telling.

_The Fakes, huh?_

 

_…_

 

Jack was silent for a long moment, then sighed.

“Ray made the two-hour journey every weekend to go and visit him,” he admitted, quietly. “Once a week for four months. All the time he was saving up every last penny to make sure he had somewhere to stay after he left. Got him enrolled in a night school, got him a job. Even when we were getting busier and busier with all the work people were sending our way. He still always had time for the kid… away from The Fakes.”

Alfredo for once, didn’t have a reply. Jack assumed he’d always thought it was one of them who’d come up with that little nickname for themselves, but no, it had come straight from the mind of a kid they’d found in a dumpster. And unlocked by the genuine love and care Ray had shown him.

Even today the number of young addicts was intolerably high. It was something they were constantly trying to work on. Made some good connections with others who wanted to help, but it was still such a slow process. Least there was one Jack was certain of, who’d been saved from that miserable life, thanks to the actions of one teenager.

“What happened to him?” Alfredo urged.

“He moved out state –”

“Is he okay?” Alfredo cut in, wide-eyed. “Does he know about Ray?”

“As I was saying, he moved out state,” Jack continued. “Went to college, got a good job, he and Ray kept in contact. And after… after he heard what happened he moved back. You uh… I’m pretty sure you’ve met him, actually.”

“I have?”

“Yeah, he came to Geoff actually, asked if he knew anyone who’d be interested in hiring in him. Geoff put him in touch with Burnie and now he’s his head of security. Go on, think, you must know him, though he looks nothing like the kid I described in the story – not anymore. Big, tough guy now, nothing like the little kid we found.”

Alfredo seemed to take this in. Then he let out a short, surprised breath. “ _Blaine_?” he exclaimed, Jack quickly shushing him. “Blaine?” he repeated, quieter. “But he’s… he’s, like, he’s… he’s _Blaine_.”

“He is,” Jack said. “And he was back then too, it was just a struggle to see so underneath all the abuse and neglect. This is what Geoff means – when he says we’ve gotta build from the ground up. These kids are the future. And they’re not lost causes, none of them. Blaine’s living proof that it doesn’t matter where you come from. If more people just gave these kids a chance - like Ray did – the future would be so much brighter.”

Alfredo stared up at him with wide eyes. He glanced between him and the bedroom door.

“The same counts for Gavin, right? he said. “He deserves a chance just as much as anyone, no matter where he came from. Be awesome if we could help every single person like Ray did for Blaine, but there’d need to be thousands of us! But with Gavin, we can’t ignore him – like Ray couldn’t ignore Blaine once he’d kicked a soccer ball at him, we can’t exactly ignore Gavin when he basically fell into Geoff’s path. I think it was meant to happen this way.”

“When did you get so wise, too?” Jack whispered affectionally, and Alfredo grinned – this was more like him, those shadows from earlier had gone.

“Who needs math, right?” he said with a wry look.

Jack chuckled. “Math is very useful,” he countered.

“Nah… two plus two equals Four Loko, that’s all I need to know.”

Jack didn’t argue with him, but made a mental note to remind Jeremy to stop purchasing the shit in bulk. 

“We need to be smart,” he urged. “With Gavin, whatever this group is he’s run from – with Ryan and the way he’s acting. Not to mention the job we’ve taken, all of it is going to require us to think very smartly. And I need you… I need to know you’re not going to let anything that happens change who you are. We need to stick together now more than ever and if anyone’s going to help the most it’ll be you, trust me. That’s part of who you are. Not the whole of it. But the part that matters to me.”

His voice was soft, and Alfredo looked up at him earnestly. He took a deep breath, and nodded.

“I’ll stay true to me,” he said, and then, “I promise.”

Jack just pulled him into another hug, and this time Alfredo barely hugged him back, almost asleep. Jack watched him for a bit, something bittersweet tugging at him.

There were broken things in all of them. He’d seen it in Alfredo, time and time again; for all his smiles and laughter, times when he looked nothing more than a scared little boy still afraid that he might be thrown out onto the streets. He’d seen it in Geoff, in how despite the self-confidence and control he held there was still such an intense guilt below the surface. He’d seen it in Lindsay, mourning her own parents' dismissiveness of her, trying desperately to prove how wrong they were about the daughter they said was too different to belong.

He saw it in himself, too – in how as much as he continued to learn and grow, sometimes he still felt like he was out of his depth, would always be more suited to being a simple carpenter just like his father and his father before him.

But it was those broken parts that also made them stronger as whole, he knew. They were each other's glue, together they would never fall apart.

When he settled back and shut his eyes, Ray’s grinning, youthful face greeted him. The youngster laughing like he’d just heard the punchline to a great joke.

“I’m sorry, Ray,” Jack said, sincerely. “I wish you were with us, we could really use you.”

“Fuck off, you’ll be fine,” Ray assured him, the bright white of the light surrounding him almost blinding Jack. “You don’t need me, I’d only hold you back now. You’re all lightyears ahead of me in this fancy ass apartment of yours.”

“But I want you,” Jack tried to walk towards him but his legs took him nowhere. “I just really fucking miss you. Isn’t that okay?”

Ray nodded, but he was getting harder to see. He let out another laugh, more fond this time.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’d be pissed if you didn’t, I mean, I am pretty fucking awesome. But I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me now, Gavin – he’s your newest little addition you need to watch out for. And I know you will.”

Jack nodded. His eyes were still sad, and part of his mind knew this was all just a dream. But it was a comfort nonetheless, it had a way of calming him, and Ray’s smile was just as warm as he remembered, gaze lingering on each other for a moment – a little, warming interaction.

Jack took a deep breath and shut his eyes. When he reopened them, Ray had been replaced by Gavin. All the surrounding light extinguished.

“Looks like we’ll be getting to know each other,” he declared, though there was no response, Gavin sat curled up on the ground, if you could call it the ground, everywhere was just black, an endless abyss. Jack wasn’t sure if it was Gavin’s doing or someone else entirely, the shadows that lurked around the both of them, but he wasn’t about to run away and leave him. That wasn’t who he was. “You should be more excited!” he called out to the eerie figure, managing a grin. “We’re pretty famous round these parts. Folk call us The Fakes.”

* * *

“This was clean on, you dumbass!”

Geoff shrugged casually. He wasn’t even going to pretend he felt guilty for spilling black coffee all the way down Ryan’s front; he saw it as his own childish payback, for all the shit Ryan had been throwing at him recently and it wasn’t like it had been scalding hot either.

“No one will see,” he retorted, biting back a grin. “They’ll think it’s just some modern art or shit.” That was a lie; it looked _exactly_ like a coffee stain.An impressive one. “See, there is a benefit to wearing dark colors all the time.”

“Oh, well isn’t that _great_ for you!” Ryan snapped. He’d been growing testier with every second they waited for Trevor to turn up. “If he forgot about the meet up I’m gonna kill him.”

Geoff rolled his eyes, leaning back in the booth and throwing his hands behind his head. He didn’t mind waiting. Would have been quite a nice little time had it just been him, Michael, and Jeremy – but Ryan had insisted on coming too, the perfect storm of still not agreeing with what they doing but wanting to get involved with every little thing. Like now, this was nothing other than a chance to talk with Trevor a bit more about the case after he’d had to leave so rushed previously.

They were just waiting at a small diner, nothing too fancy but it was convenient for Trevor to get to from work, and Geoff had to admit he was a bit of a sucker for the middle-aged lady who always took his orders.

Look, he’d never set an upper limit for how old he would go, and he wasn’t exactly getting any younger. Finding a partner was virtually impossible in the life they lead. And yet somehow four of them had managed it anyway, even fucking Ryan.

“Nah, the kid always manages to keep his head screwed on, even when the tides against him,” he mused.

Ryan paused and stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth, glaring. But it was hard to look scary with your cheeks puffed out.

“D’you think he might give us a starting point?” Jeremy asked, really only addressing Geoff and Michael. “He told us about that dockyard gang, but does that mean we just walk up and start questioning them? Seems like there has to be a subtler way of doing things.”

“Might be going to those guys is the subtler way of doing things,” Geoff argued. “Don’t forget, this supposedly goes way higher than them. As long as we don’t let our true intentions known they shouldn’t prove too much trouble.”

“You say that now,” Michael smirked.

“Yep, ever the optimist, aren’t I?” Geoff replied, eyeing up each of their expressions with a careful glance, And then added to Ryan, for good measure, “Dick.”

“What the fuck was that for?” Ryan growled back, and in doing so sent a sharp kick at Geoff’s leg that made the older man regret his actions immediately.

“Ow! Okay, I’m sorry!” he whined. “You know, the word just came to mind when I looked at you, what can I say? No need to throw a tantrum!”

“Didn’t you know that’s what he specializes in?” Jeremy added, and ignored the frustrated face Ryan sent him, turning away. There was definitely trouble in paradise. He’d been trying to mind his own business. He had hoped that things with Ryan would resolve naturally, naively so? He couldn’t think why, after all the shit Ryan had been through, it would be so simple. But that didn’t alter the fact that there’d been many a time he really wanted to punch the guy in the face, when he took his anger out on people who deserved none of it. Jeremy mainly. He’d been nothing but supportive but the young man was starting to flag.

“I’m still here,” Ryan continued after a moment, stiffly. “It’s not like I’ve abandoned you all on this one.”

“No, but if you continue complaining every damn second you’re gonna wish you had,” Jeremy mumbled.

“I will if you want me to!”

“No, you won’t, because there’s no way you’d let us work with Gavin,” Jeremy informed him, knowingly. “You’ve gotta be in just so you can breathe down his neck. Just waiting for him to make a mistake.”

“Guys, _please,_ enough with the bitch fighting,” Michael protested. He seemed tired of their arguing, though he rarely got involved in any squabbles between the group. At most, he was on hand to drag a worried looking Alfredo out of earshot, just do his best at distracting him and occasionally getting hands-on if Ryan decided to start throwing fists. Despite his tendency to rant and rage himself; he was actually one of the more laidback ones when it came to disagreements.

“Micheal Jones is the voice of common sense, as always,” Geoff said. “We’re all adults. We can at least try to behave like ones for a bit.”

“Yes, you’ve all made it clear how childish I’m being,” Ryan sighed. “Whatever. Trevor’s dancing in front of the window. Thought he was being weird like he is, but I think he wants us to meet him outside.”

“Now you can dry off in the sun. And we’ll have the smell of fresh coffee following us around.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ryan said, a bit lamely, and rose to his feet, leaving Geoff to settle the bill, scowling coldly at Trevor while he finished up his phone call.

“Are we interrupting something important? Geoff asked, joining them all outside. The look on Trevor’s face was answer enough, he would much rather be giving them his fall attention. “Yes, I’m on my way there now. Yes, I’ll have it done by today.”

“You okay?” Jeremy asked, slowly, when the young man hung up and slapped his cheeks a bit, like he was trying to wake himself up.

“Peachy,” Trevor deadpanned. “I’ve gotta go and meet with one of my kids. But I’ll answer as much as I can on the way.”

“Where to begin,” Geoff said. “I mean, is there anything important you can think of?”

“There is, actually!” Trevor proclaimed. “I’d gone through the statements for the dockyard workers again, the ones who work with the containers. There’s a guy, Casey Johnson, we’ve already got a file on him, petty theft when he was a kid, I’ll send it over. Anyway, I suggest you seek this guy out first. That’s where I’d start. For one – he was lying about where he was on the night of. Said he was getting pissed at Kavanagh’s.”

“Doesn’t seem so unlikely,” Geoff said, raising an eyebrow. “Someone deny he was?”

“Yeah, me. I know for a fact he wasn’t getting wasted at Kavanagh’s. I know that because I was getting drunk off my ass at Kavanagh’s.”

“Sounds like you’re not the most reliable witness,” Michael piped up. Trevor pulled a face, looking to Jeremy.

“No, he doesn’t look like much, but I’ll give him this, he can handle his shots,” Jeremy defended, rolling his eyes at Trevor’s cackling. “Doesn’t mean this Casey wasn’t there. Kavanagh’s small and loud and even if you weren’t blind drunk I’m sure you weren’t examining every face that came and went.”

“No, but I’d remember this guy,” Trevor informed them, coyly. “You’ll understand when you meet him. If I can I’ll send you a photo later.”

“Suppose you’ve not been able to find any solid leads?”

“Is that meant to be a joke?” the young man gave a derisive snort. “No, sorry, they catch me taking one glance at the case and it’s my head. They fucking hate me enough as it is.”

“That because of the disobedience or the drinking?”

“I like to think a combination of both,” Trevor said, lifting his chin, but then his face turned serious again.

“The one thing I can’t get my head around is how the container wasn’t discovered sooner,” he wondered. “We didn’t discover the bodies until they’d been dead at least two weeks. When we checked the computers it wasn’t even as if it had gone missing or been mixed up – it just didn’t exist, it never had, it’s number wasn’t on the system, there was no record of it at all –”

“All points to someone on the inside at the docks,” Geoff speculated. “Was thinking we could try and get a job working there, get on the inside ourselves. But with all the cuts they’ve had, they’re looking to get rid of people, not hire any.”

“Yeah, well you can thank the fucking mayor for that one,” Trevor snapped. And then, quickly, “Sorry, I know you guys have certain connections to him.”

Geoff’s face went tight with uncertainty.

“Not with him but someone who works very closely to him,” he told him. He’d questioned it a lot himself; he trusted Burnie to be, at his core, an honest man who wanted the best for the city as a whole, and he was one of the few who could be smart enough to obtain it. There was one problem, however, and that was the color of his skin. He was a white guy. The majority of folk in AC, of voters more specifically, were not. “And I know he believes the other options were far worse. At least with this guy he has some sort of power, not to name any names but he’s someone the mayor will listen to. And knowing that we’ve got one guy like him working in that fucking office is something I’m extremely grateful for.”

“Guys, we got a problem,” Jeremy choked out. His fists were clenched by his sides, as the three all turned in surprise. They hadn’t been walking that fast, but one of their own had fallen behind – it made Geoff bristle.

“What the fuck is he doing now?” Michael asked, tilting his head, watching Ryan square off against three men. “He’s gonna kill someone. He’s gonna murder a dude for laughing at his shirt –”

Before Geoff quite knew what he was doing, he was darting the short distance back and leaping into the middle of the scene. Ryan pushed at him with an angry growl, Geoff stumbling back, glaring at the three strangers – warning them silently to back off, cold and furious, and they legged it. Ryan went to go after them, like when a dog catches a cat running across a busy street, they know they really shouldn’t be going after it but instinct takes over. Before he could though, Geoff was hauling him back again – not expecting the retaliation, a short hard strike that made him choke and his vision tunnel for a moment – Ryan threw him back and his back hit the wall hard, but he didn’t retort with a swing of his own.

“Guys?” Trevor began.

Geoff wasn’t listening to him. Ryan went to tackle him and he jumped to one side – never once raising his hands, not even in defense. He just kept moving away and staring calmly at the man, watching as thankfully, the burning anger in the blue eyes finally started to die down.

“ _Guys_!” Trevor shouted again – this time loudly enough that it caught Ryan’s attention and he shook his head. Geoff saw the look in Michael and Jeremy’s eyes, the latter barely able to contain his outright disgust with his boyfriend’s behavior.

“I need to get going,” Trevor said.

Sure enough, they’d reached the arcade, one of Trevor’s favorites – a place where he met up with a handful of young crew members. He paid for whatever food or games they wanted to play and in return they would tell him certain things that might be of interest to him. Stuff they picked up while working the streets. Most of them barely older than sixteen.

They saw the detective off with a few grateful words. He looked relieved to be out of their way. Geoff’s throat ached where Ryan’d got him, his back too, but he pushed the pain away and looked to the man. Ryan’s head was lowered now, he’d pushed his hat around so it covered his face better. Geoff let out a disgruntled laugh.

“So glad to see you’re not letting the pressure of this one get to you,” he remarked. Honestly, it was quite scary, this was a Ryan he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Ryan had no answer for him. Even had the nerve to sigh like this was all a waste of time! Was he really not aware of his actions on them, on Jeremy more than anyone?

He thought the youngest might have something to say.

But instead, when Geoff glanced over, he just looked dejected.

The way he shrunk in on himself settled uncomfortably in the back of his mind, seeing the kid so at a loss when all he’d been trying to do for the last few weeks was be on Ryan’s side. But now it was like he could barely stand to look at him, as though all his energy had been drained by the constant brick wall that was Ryan he’d been hitting.

Geoff wanted to hug him.

He loved all of their family equally – each one held a special place in his heart, his life, his memories. But the younger lot, Michael, Lindsay, Alfredo, and Jeremy, they were like his fucking kids.

And he hated seeing one of them so sad. Michael, too, for once the man didn’t have a snarky reply at the ready. He was quiet – but Geoff could sense there was a rage burning underneath the surface, silently. He was holding back though, for Jeremy’s sake, and for his. They were both tired of all the fighting.

After a moment, Jeremy took a deep breath, and began to walk away, the opposite direction to where their car was parked, looking like a man on a mission.

“Where are you going?” Ryan had the nerve to snap.

“Making my own way back,” he replied, distantly, not turning around.

“Hey, wait up! Don’t leave me with these guys!” Michael called after him, jogging to catch up.

Geoff remained standing where he was, torn between making the quick drive back with Ryan or going after the younger two. He should really be getting back home…

“Come if you want, go if you want. I don’t give a fuck.”

It was the firm uncaring tone in Ryan’s voice that did it for him, and Geoff stalked after the others. He heard Ryan make a furious noise – but he didn’t look back, worried that if he did the self-control he so prided himself on would all fall apart. And so he went, away from the man he was finding it harder and harder to recognize as their own.

* * *

“Gavin! C’mon Gav, come and look at this one!” Alfredo called.

Gavin picked up his pace, walking dazedly. He’d been out for an hour or so, yet after being stuck inside for so long it felt strange to be amongst crowds again, filled him with a little discomfort – some crazy idea that one of them might jump out at him and take him back. He hadn’t needed much convincing to go on Alfredo’s little tour of the neighborhood. They’d been busy all day going over their first course of action and now it was nice to forget about all that for a while.

Never would’ve dreamed it could be so easy to switch that part of his brain off. Yet here he was – following a very excitable Alfredo round a nearby park, as he’d explained he wanted to show him some trees, weird gnarly looking things, twisted and curved into oddities about the green grass. As always his mere presence somehow felt natural and right, those warm brown eyes, that easy boyish face. For a brief moment before they left he seemed so innocent that Gavin worried about going with him – needed a reassuring nod from Jack and Michael, convincing him everything would be okay, that they wouldn’t be gone for long anyway, and they were only five minutes from the apartment.

It was already getting quite busy, crowds drawing in for the local bars as people clocked off work. It wasn’t too bad here, really, probably one of the more picturesque areas of the city. Up ahead, Alfredo had come to a complete stop, which looked stranger than it should, seeing him so still.  

“You alright?” Gavin asked. 

“Something’s wrong,” the boy murmured, staring past him. Sure enough, when Gavin turned to follow his gaze he noticed something off about the view, and in the darkening evening a strange closed air seemed to have settled. “Those guys at that corner. The ones in the leather.” 

Gavin was still staring too.

“What you thinking?” he asked.

“Something’s going down.”

Gavin nodded to himself, silently confirming Alfredo’s speculation. Shifty, that’s what he would describe those guys as. The way they held themselves. Even the average passerby would know to give them a wide berth, unless you wanted to risk getting your shit kicked in – but he walked forward; his feet were moving automatically, he couldn’t stop them. Alfredo kept pace, remaining a couple steps behind. On the way the three, two men and one woman, disappeared down a side street. 

“What you see, Gav?” Alfredo asked, once they reached the same corner.

Gavin took a peek. The three were just standing there, but he still had a feeling that something was off, and bided his time. Soon his suspicions were confirmed, a door bursting open – a young man was thrown to the ground with a tremendous force – three more leather buddies exited and now all six rounded on the fallen man.

Now he didn’t know what their deal was, for all he knew the man on the ground could be the worst piece of shit to have ever walked the earth. It could be that these leather guys and gal were alright, but everything about them screamed bad and he didn’t like the way they toyed with the man – allowing him just enough time to struggle to his feet before pushing him back down.

“Those tattoos mean they’re Blue Skull. They’re not very nice,” Alfredo whispered, head poking out beside him. 

Gavin squinted, and grimaced. They indeed all had the tattoo of a skull right below their right eye, and fuck if you couldn’t pay him enough to ever get that done. They were each shouting at seemingly random intervals. It didn’t appear as if there was a clear leader amongst them right now. That might make things a little easier, Gavin had learned that having one person around to call the shots, even if they never did in the moment, made enemies just that little bit more organised. Enemies… he surprised himself by how quick he was to assess them as such. After everything… that reaction was still there. 

“Do I call the guys to get down here?” Alfredo asked, anxiously tugging at Gavin’s arm.

“We can handle this,” Gavin muttered, staring down the street. He felt dizzy suddenly, wanted to slap himself for those words. But the feeling to do something was like an itch that was begging to be satisfied.

Gavin stared a moment longer, then reacted.

“Come on,” he said softly, and Alfredo looked at him wide-eyed.

He moved quick enough however, darting behind a dumpster down the alley while Gavin hid behind another wall on the opposite side. These guys looked a lot bigger the closer he got, but that wasn’t enough to phase him because, as the old saying went, the bigger they are the harder they fall. All he needed was an opening, to get them exactly where he wanted.

“Gentlemen, can I interest you in a wager?” he asked, stepping out of the shadows. The sweltering heat was back after the storm and he wagered they were sweating even more than him under those biker jackets. Another factor he could take advantage of, the weather. Work quick and use the sun’s rays to work as blinders and he’d be all set. 

“Fuck off, ya cunt,” one man replied cheerfully. Australian.

“Manners cost nothing, my good Sirs.”

“They armed?” Alfredo whispered, having crept up to be right next to him, though still well hidden amongst all the junk.

“ _No_ , there’s _nothing_ I can see to be worried about,” Gavin said, keeping his eyes ahead. “Just a couple of folk conducting their private business, I’m sure we can all agree that’s all fair and square around here.”

“The prick’s racked up,” one of them laughed, and Gavin took a long glance at him, saw how he became easily distracted.

“So none of you care to add an extra hundred in your pockets?” he asked again, and this grabbed their attention.

“You’re fucking lying,” the woman replied, suspiciously. He registered, vaguely, that Alfredo was growing restless in his hiding place, shuffling about making far more noise than Gavin would have, and feared if nothing happened soon he’d be leaping out anyway. But he had a plan and a particular way he wanted to execute it so he just hoped the boy’s patience would hold.

Gavin stared down the gang, and shrugged casually, taking a few steps back. He pointed to some of the trash behind them.

“You hit that that board and I’ll pay you a hundred – each. Any of you miss and you let him go.”

They looked at him like he was crazy.

Then the one guy who accused him of being high drew out his weapon. He turned away – looked at the proposed target, turned back to him with a smarmy grin. “This guy wants to throw his dollars away, I say we let him. And if he doesn’t pay up we can give our little friend here some company.” He aimed another kick at the man on the floor – taking delight in the cry of pain. Then he launched the blade into the air. 

It had a greater effect than Gavin could have hoped, the whole gang quickly taking up this impromptu challenge of his. It could have been that they saw Gavin as so little a threat that they so easily turned their backs to him, and he also had no doubt that if they did catch him trying to make a break for it or if he refused to pay up this supposed money, they would beat him to a pulp. Suspected that’s what they were planning on doing anyway, but for now they were busy riling each other up, and he waited for his prime moment. It came when all of them were giving the board their undivided attention, arguing about who was closest to the center, when Gavin made his strike, charging forward and grabbing the closest guy around his neck, getting him in a chokehold.

“Back up!” Gavin yelled. A burning energy consumed him as they all rounded in an instant, faces in shock – but all with their knives decidedly stuck in the wooden board behind them.

Gavin himself, was unarmed, had been ever since he’d left, not as weird as he expected considering he hadn’t been without some form of weapon since he was six years old. There were five, not including the one tight in his old, assessing the situation, caught completely unawares, and Gavin demanded that they let the man free unless they wanted their buddy’s neck snapped.

It was all an act, but they didn’t know that. But as it happened, they weren’t as helpless as Gavin had hoped. Rather, they had a bargaining chip – all it took was a whistle from one of the men, and a girl stumbled out of the nearby door, and though there were no direct orders from any of them it seemed she knew what they wanted. She went and stood by one, the same one who’d been doing most of the talking. Gavin saw her eyes, dull and glazed over, her whole body slumped on one leg – now this was someone high out of their mind, completely out of it, so much so that when the man reached down and pulled out a secondary knife, a small, dreamy smile crept onto her face, like this was just a nice relaxing get-together. The man pressed it into her neck, tearing slightly through the layer of flesh and drawing blood. She stood there placidly, watching Gavin with that same vacant expression.

They didn't need to utter a word for Gavin to get the gist of what their intentions were, eyes flashing dangerously – one dropped a foot down onto the man on the floor to keep him in place. Gavin fell still – his arms burning, starting to strain against the struggling weight of the much larger man he still had in his hold, but unable to look away from the girl’s neck and the blood dripping slowly in spatters that darkened as soon as they hit the ground.

Alfredo, still crouched, was getting ready to pounce – Gavin could hear the subtle clicks of the safety being released, and suddenly Gavin had to stop him, the feeling taking him by surprise but once it was there, boy was it impossible to get rid of.

“Stop!” Gavin choked out. He reacted without even thinking, shoving the man in his arms to the ground and tackling Alfredo to the side, grabbing the gun from his grip and chucking it as far as he could down the street. As he moved, he was aware of the gang moving in too, and he gave a strangled yell of pain, one of them pulling him up by his hair. There six to deal with now, but the girl was okay, and not all of them were armed. Not only that but now they’d seriously pissed him off. “Oh, you’re gonna fucking regret that –”

Calling on the rage and pain filling him, he called on his old skills like a reliable workhorse. The people around him span into a blur as he struck out with a force and agility that was born from over twenty years hard experience, training, and discipline, all his father had taught him –

The most competent was his first target – a man not much larger than Gavin but very quick on his feet. He didn’t want that guy flanking him when he was busy with the others. He ducked under a swing, going in one direction, always forward, towards his target. All offence.

His hands formed as if he were holding imaginary tennis balls. Dug his fingers into the bicep of the swinging arm and ripped at the muscle while striking the forearm on the same side, straight in with the heel of his palm. It was a thousand year old battle protocol from the great Kung Fu masters: first, attack the arm that attacks you.

The man went down pretty quickly after that. And the others fell in quick succession.

A double palm heel blow to both ears, a sharp elbow to an abdomen, another rising one into the underside of a chin, arching down into another palm heel on the bridge of a nose. There were no wind ups, no wasted motion; each movement was designed to roll naturally into the next.

They were all familiar movements. But when the fight was over, and all that was left were the six dazed and unconscious bodies on the ground, it felt different from before. He stood for a moment, panting and catching his breath, but for once he felt _something_. That was the first time, he realised in that moment, that he’d fought without being told to. That had been all him. His choice.

“Gavin!” Alfredo bounded over from where he’d been watching in the corner ever since Gavin had disarmed him. “You tackled _me_! They could’a killed that girl – I’m good, I wouldn’t’ve missed! Don’t you trust me? Why’d you do that? Where’d you learn all that ninja shit you just did!?”

“I can’t,” Gavin said, breathlessly, turning his face towards the boy, seeing how the dark eyes were wider than ever. “I don’t want anyone killed on my watch, okay? I can’t… I can’t do that anymore.”

Gavin was trying to check on the man they’d been attacking. His face was dazed, and blood was running from the back and through his shirt, but the moment he realised Gavin really wasn’t going to hurt him, he bolted like a hare.

As for the young girl, she was nowhere to be seen, disappeared in the midst of the fighting, and he turned back to Alfredo to see if he knew which way she’d gone.

Alfredo still looked a little like he’d been hit by a bolt of lightning, standing silently by his side, whole body rigid. He curled in on himself when Gavin faced him again, shuffling anxiously, every muscle in his body locked tight.

“Anymore…?” he murmured, and Gavin felt those eyes bore into him, for the first time something else mixing in with the curiosity. “So, you –”

“Can we just drop it!” Gavin cried out, sounding guilty before he even finished. Felt even worse when he saw Alfredo flinch. “Sorry, I…” he murmured softly. “Sorry about disarming you. That was wrong of me.”

Alfredo didn’t try to ask any more. He let his head drop down submissively, arms starting to shake a bit, bringing up one hand to cling at the other – held it close to his chest. Gavin caught a glimpse of the skin around the end of the sleeve and blinked in horror, leaning forward to peer at the deep cut on the back of the wrist, probably coming from when he threw them both into the pile of trash – god knows there was a ton of glass back there.

“Did I hurt you?” he said, stating it in almost disbelief. “Aw shit, Alfredo, I’m sorry. When… when I’m in the midst of everything I – there’s only one goal in my head and… _shit_ – everything else is more of a reflex action. Does it hurt a lot?”  

_Yes_. That’s what Gavin read in the boy’s face, as he tried to cover the wound up with his sleeve, still gripping it tightly. _You did this,_ Gavin thought, kicking himself.

He wanted to check on him, to offer some form of comfort; but he found he didn’t know how, that he was afraid of getting close to something he’d already damaged, unintentional or not. Just like he’d feared.

“No,” Alfredo managed to whisper after a moment, staring Gavin in the eye. “I don’t get it, they weren’t good people, and they were gonna kill that girl. They didn’t have guns, it would’ve been easy. Why didn’t you want to just take them out quickly so she’d be safe?”

Gavin huffed out a great sigh. 

“Because I don’t believe that would have been right,” he replied – trying to explain without explaining everything was fucking hard. “Yeah, those guys were assholes who were probably going to seriously hurt or even kill those two people, but that doesn’t give me the right to _kill_ them. I can’t. It’s wrong. For me, killing another will always be wrong. I know I’m not making much sense, I’m sorry – I do trust you. I’m sure you would’ve helped a lot. It’s just… there was another way and I took it. Far riskier for me, but if it means my hands are _clean_ , I’ll accept it.”

He was starting to feel sick. Dizzy. He was still struggling to process it all, too.

He’d done the right thing. He was sure of it. It was in no way a road to redemption, he’d never be free of all of who he was – he didn’t have the _right_. For too long his father’s ghost had already haunted him in the heavy guilt he had carried with him at his actions, and now it wasn’t just him, it was _everybody_. So many ghosts, so much guilt.

It was hard to get his head around it. He felt _scared_ , he realized suddenly – that he was aware he was changing and becoming a different person in such a short span of time, that he had no idea where he was headed next. What would be the next surprise? 

“Oh…” Alfredo said quietly. Gavin’s answer seemed only to have furthered his confusion. “Gavin – can… can we go home now? Before these guys wake up.” He peeked up a little timidly, like he was afraid Gavin might be annoyed, or perhaps he was still in shock from witnessing the fight, “Please?”

“Okay,” Gavin murmured. He stepped forward, and Alfredo took off ahead of him. Gavin moved numbly, unable to muster the energy to keep up. He was beginning to ache, and he could see Alfredo eyeing him with concern as he slowed his pace to match Gavin’s, but Gavin found he couldn’t bring himself to return the gaze.

_You hurt him._

Of course it was entirely an accident. It was nothing too bad and he was sure Alfredo held no blame for him, but still, it was his _fault_. His thoughts were a dizzying swirl. Things too familiar from his childhood, that he thought he’d long put behind or just lost along the way. Of not having any clear view on his place in the world, thrust into a life that was nothing like he’d ever experienced before.

This was a better one, though, he tried to remind himself. This was infinitely better than the first time around…

Now he was surrounded by people. Real, _good_ , people. He wanted to believe that their presence would make him strong, that he’d be able to one day look old Gavin in the eye and tell him to go fuck himself and that not a sliver of recognition for that man would show in his face.

But he felt _weak_ , right now. Unsettled from the confrontation and Alfredo’s injury and the intensity of being unexpectedly thrust back into needing to rely on his hard-earned skills, and he walked silently along towards the apartment block, lost in his own thoughts. 

* * *

“Pass me that ratchet extender,” Jeremy said. “It’s that blue thing on the bench.”

They’d been down in the garage for a good part of the day. Jeremy had asked if he’d like to give a hand with his girls, and Gavin not knowing much about vehicles hesitantly accepted. But, it turned out it was more Jeremy’s way of saying he wanted to hang out – doing nearly all the work himself, just asking Gavin to hand him some tools here and there, but mainly just chatting the whole time.

Gavin had been worried, about how the younger man was affected by Ryan’s lessening control on his anger. That it somehow might pass onto him too. But by spending a few hours with him, he realized he couldn’t be more wrong. _Friendly. Easy-going. Curious._

That was how Jeremy was around him. Despite all he must be going through, he didn’t take it out on Gavin, almost the opposite. The more Ryan pushed against him the more Jeremy was drawn to him.

“I know this is a bit delayed,” Jeremy said now. “But I’m glad you decided to stick around. It’s nice having someone new, I mean it.”

“Ryan’s upset,” Gavin added quietly, unable to help it. “Doesn’t that make you upset?”

He regretted it immediately when Jeremy paled a little, wiping his face with a grease stained cloth. But he pushed the emotion away and put a smile back on his face. 

“Yeah, but not with you,” he continued. “Don’t worry about him. I’m sure we’ll work things out with time… a whole lotta time –”

A rumble of an engine made them both jump. Jeremy’s bike had come to life and its wheels were spinning from where it was being held mid-air, and Jeremy cursed it.

“Shut up!” he yelled. He gave the old thing a kick, scowling at it like an embarrassed parent. Gavin wondered exactly how old it was, it was that same ghastly orange and purple, of which most of the older vehicles seemed to sport.

Something about this bike, though, just screamed childhood. From the chipped paint to the stickers plastered on, and the obnoxious shiny blue bar ends. When he finally managed to get it to shut up, Jeremy gave a firm nod, glaring at the bike like he was just daring it to try that again.

“You know what you’re doing,” Gavin observed. “This is all very impressive. Were you a mechanic before… uh…”

“Before I became a crime fighter?” Jeremy said, smirking. “Yeah, my old man owns a garage back in Old Sanders, my brother and I grew up at the place. Learnt how to change a tire before we could walk, that sort of thing.”

He perched on a stool, eyes casting over with thought. A brief flash of pain washed through them, his face left unguarded for a second. A silence fell over him, and Gavin turned away. He hated that, hated that he could be so in tune to the hurt of others, hated that he knew it so well he could recognize it so naturally.

“Hey,” Jeremy murmured. “You okay?”

He still managed to be concerned even after reliving whatever pain Gavin had just sensed. Gavin glanced over at him, something a little embarrassed crossing his face. He nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, quietly.

“It’s just that, I saw Fredo last night,” Jeremy continued after a pause, meeting Gavin’s eyes. “That guy’s like my brother – even more so than my real one, it feels like. And I know when he’s hiding something.”

Gavin bit his lip. He had no reply, had tried to wipe the events of yesterday from his mind. 

“It’s not that I’m saying it’s you,” Jeremy said finally, slowly. “But I didn’t notice any change until after the two of you got back,” he gestured a finger towards Gavin. “I just thought. Maybe you could help me figure out what’s wrong. But… maybe I’m just imagining things.”

“He seemed tired,” Gavin said. “We were gong to stay out a bit longer but he wanted to come home.”

Jeremy nodded. He took a deep breath, and when he met Gavin’s eyes again, he gave a small smile. Gavin smiled back – at that moment, his nervousness faded, Jeremy’s expression was so warm.

“He jumped a mile when I called his name!” he said, half amused. “Thought he was going to bash his head on the fucking ceiling. It’s just strange, y’know? Haven’t seen him this jumpy in forever.”

Gavin’s heart clenched. Alfredo, he knew, had been more than a little freaked by his actions yesterday and then a little frightened by the ferocity of Gavin’s improvised speech that he didn’t realize he had within him.

“What do you think of the plan?” he asked, mainly to change the subject.

“You mean the plan that’s not really a plan… unless you count a plan that we’re gonna improvise a plan.”

“Well, we have at least one lead, and we half have an idea of what we’re looking for,” Gavin said, rather matter-of-factly.

“I’m still pretty sure these dockyard guys will be tough as nails to crack!” Jeremy proclaimed, picking at the paint drying on his hands. “I’ve got buddies who’ve gone into similar work, it’s like a gang atmosphere almost, you’re in it together, you go down together –” 

“Is what everyone says when there’s no actual threat,” Gavin said, calmly. “I’ve heard it before – it takes a lot more than a few words and a couple years of working together to breed true loyalty, binds so strong you’d give your life to see them unbroken. And I’ve been in that place; I was in that place until recently, when I eventually worked out all those binds that had kept me in my place were built on foundations as false as those under that wonky pub of yours.”

Jeremy let out a bark of laughter, eyeing Gavin curiously. “How much has Fredo been telling you about me?”

Gavin shrugged, and after a moment Jeremy leaned back and crossed his arms, gazing steadily into his eyes until he smiled once more.

There was a way in which his eyes crinkled as he did so that made his whole face literally shine. Gavin caught himself and forced his own gaze away when he worried he’d been watching too long, finding something new in the garage to focus on. The smile from a man he barely knew shouldn’t be so distracting.

_You shouldn’t be afraid of who you are._

He froze. That voice sounded so close, but it only existed inside his own memories, and even as he felt it coming, it was already too late.

_How do you perceive attraction?_

He was back in the garden, early spring, the flowers coming into bloom around them. He looked across, saw the man who’d been speaking, open and easy as he’d grown used to – he wasn’t his friend, not by any stretch of the word, but of all the marks he’d ever been handed, he was definitely the most pleasant, but they were still at early days. He’d been positioned for two weeks, working for the renowned Dr. David Fairley as his personal assistant – a role which he’d severely _underestimated_ , not in the sense that there was a lot of work, there were probably many more with more demanding jobs. But, and this was what was so _new_ , being Fairley’s assistant apparently meant spending his every waking minute with the man and that included sharing tea and talking politics during a late afternoon.

Everything had been going well enough, if not a little boring. But Fairley’s next line of questioning had him sucking in a silent gasp. The man started asking about his opinions on _love,_ on the state of romance in their day and age. He asked if Gavin was seeing anyone, what young people did on the dating scene, if he was a supporter for LGBTQ rights, which, if he was totally honest, had never really entered his mind before.

Gavin found he had no answers, that he had no strong opinions. On any of it. He didn’t know! He’d been with people. A night here and there, sometimes the job required it. But as far as his own _feelings_ went? He hadn’t a fucking clue.

“Gavin,” a voice grasped at him. It sounded a little worried. “Hey. Gavin. You alright? You went kinda weird for a sec –”

“I _was_?” His was tighter than he remembered it. His cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “It’s all this paint. Think it’s making me high, gonna start seeing things soon –”

“Here, have some water.” 

“Oh, thanks…” He caught the flask, popping open the cap and almost spitting the contents straight out. He held it away from his mouth in shock, and Jeremy started making a lot of noise, rocking back and forth on his seat in barely contained laughter. Just seeing him so happy made something well up in Gavin’s chest, reassured him that the Jeremy he’d first met was still there. He was vaguely disgusted by the strong taste of whiskey lingering on his tongue and burning his throat, but for a moment it was the two of _them_ – Jeremy’s eyes like warm chestnut crinkling in amusement at him, soft and fond. He thought he might cry – felt a swelling pressure in his chest – with how much of a novelty it still was, having people enjoy his company.

He still couldn’t describe exactly who he was, even who he wanted to be, but right now that didn’t really matter. Jeremy was here, in front of him. He liked that. He liked Jeremy’s laughter.

“Arsehole!” Gavin cried out. And then a very, _very_ , dumb idea entered his mind. “Hey, this water’s bad, let me help you out –”

The laughter cut out as they both watched Gavin pour the liquid down the floor drain. The look that passed between them was distracting; Jeremy was a blank canvas. Then, only after had the last drop dripped out did something new cross his face, something…

“That’s my whiskey, you dick!” Jeremy bellowed.

“You mean it was.”

That did it. Jeremy grabbed a spray can and aimed it at Gavin. It startled him, seeing a cloud of green hurtling towards him, feeling it seep into the fabric of his shirt. Jeremy’s face, he’d never seen a look quite so smug. _Alright_ , he thought, _you asked for it._

“Oh, shit!” Jeremy cried. “C’mon, man, don’t use my purple, that’s my prized color!”

“Ah! Don’t aim at my face!” Gavin started to laugh, watching as Jeremy catapulted from his seat to try and find cover. 

“These paints are very expensive,” Jeremy said, biting his cheeks trying not to laugh as well, his eyes sparkling as he continued. “So you better make every shot count, motherfucker.”

What followed was utterly ridiculous, a series of events that Gavin would have never imagined ever occurring in his life, a spray paint war to the death, or until the cans ran out. After about twenty minutes of chasing each other round the garage they were both spent – out of breath, more from laughing non stop than actual tiredness.

Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. He was staring at Gavin with wide eyes, skin and clothes coated top to bottom in an array of bright colors, like he’d walked straight out of some fantasy novel.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin mumbled. “I uh… I dunno what I was doing. We should uh… we should…”

“Are you kidding?” Jeremy was walking up to him, now. He clapped a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “That, my friend, was the most fun I’ve had in weeks. And don’t say you’re sorry now, I mean look at me! Look at us! This stuff doesn’t come out easy, y’know, we’re gonna be walking rainbows for the next week!” 

He hugged him then. It wasn’t a full bodied hug, more of a tight arm around Gavin’s shoulders – squeezing him close for a few seconds. His cheeks were rosy as he cheekily made to wipe his hands off on Gavin’s shirt. Gavin let out a yelp of surprise, but Jeremy grabbed him into a headlock messed his hands through his hair. Gavin could have easily escaped if he tried, but he laughed again instead, and retaliated with more paint covered hands of his own.

That’s how Michael and Geoff found them, the two watching in silence. Only once Jeremy and Gavin had finally broken apart did they make their presence known – standing there – looking even more bemused and confused than Gavin had been, neither quite knowing where to begin. 

“What,” Geoff said, staring incredulously at the both of them, stunned.

“The fuck?” Michael finished, slowly taking a few steps into the carnage. “Did a paint bomb go off?”

“It’s his fault. He dishonored me in the greatest way, so I had to seek my revenge.” Jeremy told them, face struggling to stay straight as he wiped at his forehead, which was now sweating blue and red. “What happens in Rimmy Tim’s garage, stays in Rimmy Tim’s garage, okay?” 

“No,” Michael countered. “I’m telling everyone we know about this.”

“Thanks, pal,” Jeremy said, walking over to the sink. He grabbed a couple of cleanish towels, soaked them, and threw one to Gavin. The other he draped completely over his own head. 

Gavin wondered how he got himself into this situation. Standing in a garage, filled with purple and orange vehicles, coated head to toe in paint, standing next to a man with a towel for a head. He glanced towards the others, their expressions very clear, they thought he and Jeremy were absolutely crazy. 

His lips stretched into a smirk, and they both shook their heads, two tired parents. 

“Glad to see you two are preparing for the docks,” Geoff said. His voice was steady but Gavin could hear the laughter just behind it; it was deep, commanding, but there was an affection, for all to hear, for the both of them.

Gavin tried to clean his face, but from Michael’s expression he suspected he just made it look worse.

“This is prep,” he replied, flatly. “This is camouflage.”

Michael tilted his head like a dog hearing an interesting sound for the first time, before he started chuckling. 

“Seven years I’ve known towel head there, never once, not once have I been allowed to _touch_ his paint cans, let alone spray them in his face,” he observed. Jeremy stiffened, and Michael must’ve noticed. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he continued. “And I don’t remember him ever coming up and asking for my help down here! _Oh no, my time with my girls is mine alone._ Apparently Ryan isn’t the only exception to that rule, you must really be something quite special.”

There was something so casually teasing in the words. Gavin could only stare, while Jeremy made a variety of inhuman noise under the towel. After ripping it off his head, he glared at Michael, but couldn’t seem to find a response.

“I think I’ll skip on the disguise,” Geoff said, gesturing the two to get closer. “Trevor managed to send us something. You two freaks take a look at this and then go and take a fucking shower.” 

“What is it?” Jeremy asked, peering at the phone screen, eyebrows raising. “Is that who I think it is?”

“You fucking got it,” Michael swallowed, sighing in frustration, and continued. “So that counts Geoff, Jack and Fredo out.”

“ _Of all the people._ Why’s it one of the few who’s definitely gonna remember our faces?” Geoff said, shooting them a weary look.

_What the fuck_ , Gavin thought, staring at the image. A young man – it would have been like any other mugshot, if not for the fact that half the man’s face was missing.

Perhaps replaced was a more appropriate word. Half his face had been replaced, the skin from the middle of his forehead all the way down to the left-hand side of his chin had been swapped out for some type of metal. It looked a lot less impressive than it sounded, like he’d just shoved a piece of aluminum into his skull.

“Guy was part of Project N,” Jeremy explained. “Most of them college kids, stopped here during their travels, looking for some extra cash, see a flyer for human testing volunteers, six hundred in cash. Most of it was legal, maybe not ethical but legal. But for a handful, the ones they thought no one would come looking for, they conducted… these experiments.”

“Is that what that’s meant to be?” Gavin asked, confused. “Some type of human enhancement?”

“Well, I suppose that was the plan for the future,” Geoff replied. “But these were the very first trials. Torture more than anything. We put an end to it and thankfully all the kids made it out alive, but there were some, like Alex – as we knew him back then – who were turned to _this_. We felt sorry for him in particular, probably the worst case, had no family to return to, friends turned their backs on him. Jack kept an eye on him, Fredo would hang out with him a bit, and then eventually I helped him get out of the city. Least… thought I had.”

Gavin nodded. He leaned forward to take a closer look, read the name Casey Johnson, the guy Trevor had told them about. It was a wake up call that he wasn’t the first lost soul they’d invested a lot of time in, and though their circumstances were completely different, he couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed that this guy was now potentially involved in trafficking, like he was giving all lost strays a bad name, throwing Geoff and the others effort back in their faces.

Jeremy made a rather confused, annoyed sound beside him. Gavin glanced at him, and despite the multitude of colors, there was a dark air about him. When he met Gavin’s eye, Gavin knew exactly what he was thinking. 

“So that means I’ll have to be working with Ryan,” Jeremy said, and there was an unsteady silence while he mulled over that scenario. “And you and Lindsay won’t swap with me?”

“We need Lindsay on the ground,” Michael said, smiling sympathetically. “And where she goes I go. Besides, is Ryan really that much worse than having to put on your improv shoes again?”

“Maybe…” Jeremy mumbled.

“Hey,” Geoff said then, gently tilting the younger man’s chin up. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Jeremy noticed how intently they were all staring. His eyes hardened, and he nodded firmly, then looked at Gavin.

“As long as Gavin can come too,” he demanded. It was surprising to see him suddenly so authoritative; all this time he’d taken more of a backseat when it came to preparation.

Gavin rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly.

“Yeah, me and Gav, that’ll be cool, and don’t worry I’ll be fine with Ryan. I mean, work is work, he’s still in the doghouse at home. Think of it this way, too, he see’s that you’re not some evil genius plotting to destroy us all and maybe we’ll be able to start breaking through that thick skull of his.”

A flash of guilt crossed his face, but he shook it away quick enough.

“I dunno if that’s a good idea… with Ryan and the fact I – I’m new to all this!”

“I’ll bet you’re better skilled than us,” Michael added. He shared a smile with Jeremy, showing his approval of the idea.

Jeremy grinned, seeming relieved.

“We’re all going into this with no prior experience, we’ve covered that, and I know it sounds kinda childish but I could really use someone to back me up – me and Ryan, I know I’m meant to always be there for him, and I am, I’d never abandon him but… I just can’t be alone with him now. It’s like… it’s suffocating. I won’t be in my right mind on my own.”

Gavin lifted his chin.

“If you want me there then I’ll be there. I fully plan to earn my keep, however long that may be.”

“That’s kinda what we were hoping you’d say,” Geoff admitted. “At any rate we could use your technical skills. Be a lot for Ryan –”

“Ryan _couldn’t_ ,” Jeremy cut in. “Ryan won’t be able to do it all on his own. No matter what he says.”

Gavin exchanged a glance with Michael, who was back to watching Jeremy carefully.

“I’ll do whatever I can,” he said, finally. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle more than a coupleof angry glares at my back.”

“Excellent! It’s sorted!” Geoff exclaimed, happily. “Now why are you two still standing here?”

“Alright, we’re going, we’re going,” Jeremy whined. He latched onto Gavin’s wrist and pulled him away, marching like an angry toddler being ordered to take a bath, purposefully shutting the elevator doors before the others could make it in. Michael’s middle finger was the last thing they saw before they were heading up.

“Hey, question. Can I say we’re buddies yet?” Jeremy asked, and the corner of Gavin’s mouth quirked up. 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “You can say that.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both refusing to look away first. Eventually Gavin’s social confidence let him down and he lowered his gaze – but he was sure he’d seen in the other man’s eyes the same feeling, one that only came from the excitement of something new. How comfortably he’d found himself around Jeremy, effortless and in the blink of an eye almost. He had a sense the younger man still didn’t quite know what to make of him; he’d catch him staring inquisitively when he thought Gavin wasn’t looking. But they were past the initial acquaintance stage, and that felt… well, _exciting_.

“You have any ideas about how to break it to Ryan that his arch nemesis is gonna be working with him?” Jeremy asked, half jokingly, half genuine nervousness. “I’d be ready to dodge a flying fist or two, that’s usually his first reaction when things don’t go his way… I – I’m making him sound bad… he’s not like this, not for a long time, and it’s fucking eating me up inside but… but that doesn’t mean you should take any shit from him, okay?”

“We’ll think of something,” Gavin assured him. “And don’t worry, I know he can’t really be as bad as he’s trying to act around me. Like I said, had the intimidation technique pulled on me by people far scarier. And besides, I’ve seen him turn into a big teddy bear around Alfredo, guy like that’s got a good heart.”

Jeremy nodded, smiling. He blinked a few times, and Gavin wondered if he was trying to hold a few unwanted tears back. 

There was still a lot they didn’t understand about each other. Gavin wanted to know all about who Jeremy was, what had pushed him to become the man he was today. He knew Jeremy must want to know about how Gavin had ended up in the predicament he had. Not to mention what his “work” had been before and everything leading up to it. That’s all it was, two very curious individuals. All very innocent. 

But right now, at least, Gavin couldn’t keep the image of Jeremy laughing from his mind, so incredibly warm and joyous it felt like he’d known it his whole life, and even the extreme weight still baring down on his shoulders wasn’t enough to stop the way his heart had soared for that brief period of time in the garage – two idiots fighting with paint like kids in a backyard, both seizing that moment to be carefree, to pretend they had no worries in the world, no responsibilities – it couldn’t last forever, but it had been nice to share a moment like that with someone he liked.

Yeah, he was slowly discovering that the company of another, no matter how different you might seem at first, wasn’t always half bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's sent me such lovely comments, and to any new readers, welcome! I hope you all continue to enjoy this fic! Gonna be delving into some investigative work for the next chapter...


	6. Chapter 6

Geoff remembered the day Trevor came to him with a request.

That fateful day, the fresh-faced wonder boy had arranged a meeting with him. They’d had a different favorite meet-up spot back then, a park opposite a construction site - busy and loud and filled with people who didn’t give them a second glance - the perfect place until the construction had finished and the park filled with businessmen and women on their lunch break, all too easy for someone unwanted to sit by unnoticed.

He’d been working with Trevor for a year and a half or so at that point. He’d already found him to be incredibly efficient, smart, and trustworthy, a young man who shared Geoff’s own ideals on how to clear up the scum in the city. When he’d initially contacted him Geoff assumed it was much of the same they’d been dealing with recently. Loan shark companies who preyed on the elderly and the desperate. Assholes who needed putting in their place.

He could never have predicted what actually unfolded.

The kid had been uncharacteristically nervous, nothing of the suave figure that usually greeted him. He’d been pacing and rubbing his hands together since Geoff had first walked up to their normal bench and kept repeating that he was unsure how to phrase what he had in mind. Geoff had told him to just get on with it, no point wasting time worrying about it until he’d told him what _it_ was, and Trevor had finally flopped onto the seat next to him, distressed… anxious and clearly very, very worried about something.

Actually that something had turned out be a someone. “It’s one of my boys, Geoff,” Trevor had begun. “One of my best ones, brought in those gangs terrorizing folk in the Rosewood district, and the casino that was funding the illegal human testing. He’s always been reliable and well-informed, but… _ahhh_ ,” he broke off with a frustrated sigh. “Lately I’ve been worried about him. There’s something not right.”

“How so?”

Trevor thought for a moment, a frown creasing his forehead. “This kid… he’s smart, right? And he can take care of himself. But… I dunno, Geoff, he’s the kinda kid that people can easily take advantage of, and I don’t know half the details, but I’m certain the crew he rolls with is abusing that.”

“He say anything to you?” Geoff asked, and Trevor shook his head, standing up to pace in frustration again, hands gesticulating wildly as he did so.

“No! It’s not like that! He’s… as far as he’s concerned I think he’s not even fully aware what’s going on _isn’t right_. Like I said, he’s smart - street smart anyway, knows how to fight, how to survive - but… I dunno how to put this, they could be fucking using him as a punching bag and sending him to sleep with the dogs and he wouldn’t put up a fight, not to them. I think he’ll do whatever they want and allow them to do whatever they want to him purely cause they’ve not tossed him back on the streets yet.”

Geoff observed the young detective as he paced back and forth in agitation. “You worried they’re hurting him?”

Trevor paused, looked him dead in the eye. “I know they’re hurting him. Would have to be blind not to see it.” His shoulders sagged as he slowly sat back down again, whole body seeming to shrink as the pent-up energy left him to be replaced with a kind of regretfulness. “Now I’m worried that I’m gonna go to the meetup spot one day and… and he won’t turn up at all.”

“So find another crew for him to roll with. It’s not like the old days, these kids hardly care much for loyalty, they bounce around between crews like they’re fucking high school cliques.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Trevor said, slightly harsh, and he immediately corrected himself. “I’m sorry, but you don’t get it. If you met him you’d realize that wouldn’t solve anything. Being in a different crew - or clique, _whatever_ \- I wouldn’t trust any of them not to take advantage of him. Believe me, I’ve thought about getting him out but what’s the point of getting him out of one shark tank if I’m just gonna throw him to the ocean? He’s just… he’s _sweet_ Geoff, I don’t know how else to put it.”

Geoff raised an eyebrow speculatively. “Sweet” was not a word he would have associated with any of the young hood rats that made up the baseline of the city’s criminal workforce, even the ones who did become informants for cops like Trevor.

Still, he took a deep breath in. “Alright…” he said, attempting to calm Trevor. “Well, you brought me here for a reason. I assume it’s to help with this kid. What can we do?”

Trevor didn’t reply for a moment. “I… I know you guys are still not over… I mean, things are all still pretty fresh after what happened with…”

“Ray.” Geoff finished for him, refusing to bat an eyelid. Ray had been gone for nearly a year now. The time for crying was over. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing really…” Trevor hastened to add. “But what I wanted to ask of you is… well - ah, shit - could you just take care of him for a while? Just give him a bed for a week or two at most while I try and sort something out. I would let him stay at mine if it weren’t for obvious reasons, but I don’t want him staying around these people any longer. I can’t afford to put him up in a hotel for that long and I’d be worried they’d find him or he’d freak out being on his own and go back anyway. I trust you guys more than anyone and I’m… I would be forever grateful if you do this, more than I already am.”

The plea had caught Geoff off guard. He’d been expecting maybe Trevor to ask them to go down to try and “talk” this crew into playing nice or finding another crew less sadistic, perhaps on the other side of town. Not this. Trevor knew how seriously they took their privacy. How secretive and protective they were of what was theirs. And he was asking Geoff to just let some random stranger in to their lives?

He could never quite pinpoint what had compelled him to agree, but when they’d split up around ten minutes later it had been a relieved Trevor and an annoyed-with-himself Geoff leaving. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen for the pleading eyes of a young detective - he hadn’t even said he’d speak it over with the rest of the guys before deciding. That was certainly going to go down well. 

He remembered Michael and Jack had torn into him as soon as they found out what was happening. Pissed that this was apparently happening and they had no say in the matter.

They’d all gone to bed in foul moods that night.

Alfredo had turned up the following afternoon, a timid young thing in the doorway - arrived with nothing but the clothes on his back, and in dire need of a good meal and a hot shower.

Geoff only had to take one look at him to know he’d made the right decision. He’d caught Jack’s eye too, and knew at once all was forgiven. What Trevor had been struggling to explain became apparent that first night, to Ryan's horror mostly. A glass of water. It had only been a glass of water. The man had set his drink down perhaps slightly too close to the edge of the counter, and when the boy had walked past he’d knocked it. It hadn’t even tipped, just splashed a bit, but to watch Alfredo’s reaction you could have been forgiven for thinking he’d accidentally spilled scalding hot water all over the man - dropping to his knees at once, head bowed, shaking uncontrollably.

It had taken them a long time to convince Alfredo the burning rage in Ryan’s eyes had nothing to do with the water, and Geoff had needed to send the man on a walk to cool down just so as not to spook the boy any further. When he’d returned later, after they’d shown the still extremely jumpy kid to the spare room, Ryan had sat quietly opposite Geoff in the living room, and given him a look Geoff could read perfectly, no words needed.

There was no way in hell they were letting this kid go.

Those intended two weeks at most had turned into five years, and none of them had ever looked back. If anything Alfredo had been a life-saver, though the boy himself would never realize it, he’d unwittingly brought their fragile little family closer together, and helped make it stronger than ever. Perhaps for Geoff more than anyone, he’d reignited that belief in him, the one that had set him off down this path all those years ago; you send good out into the world and occasionally it’ll send a little back your way. You take that leap of faith if your gut tells you it’s the right thing to do. You open up your hearts a little to everyone you meet, no matter how hurt you may have been in the past.

So when he saw the boy return with Gavin that other night, and saw traces of old habits such as jumping at hearing his name return, he was determined to get to the bottom of things.

“What we looking at here then, Fredo?” he asked, finding his boy lying flat on the living room rug. In front of him he had a handful of Michael’s figurines and was arranging them in a circle, all facing each other like they were at some kind of meeting.

Alfredo didn’t answer him right away. Just continued to stand the little characters, tongue poking out slightly, intense silence that made Geoff’s worry increase. He knelt down, gently so as not to knock over any of the little guys.

“Remember that time when I said you could always talk to me about anything and I’d promise to never get mad?” he said. “Offer still stands.”

“I dunno if I’m allowed,” Alfredo replied, stiffly. There was no doubt he knew what Geoff was referring to - not naive enough to believe no one had noticed he was hiding something from them. Of what had happened for him to get a nasty cut on his wrist. Of what had made Gavin’s limp return ever so slightly. Of all the rest of it.

Geoff gave a thoughtful hum, and lay down so he was also on his stomach, getting to the same eye level.

“So you don’t know if Gavin would like it. But he hasn’t actually told you to keep anything a secret. I think that means it’s up to you then - he’s not forcing you into anything. This is you wondering what’s the best thing to do as his friend. Am I right?” He tilted his head, smiling softly with warm eyes. “I think it means Gavin trusts you a lot too, if he’s leaving it up to you to decide what’s right. He sees you as a friend more than any of the rest of us. Question is, do you trust us enough to know what happened?”

Alfredo stiffened. His hands froze on the figurines, looking to Geoff with big eyes, now with an even greater anxiousness.

“I do trust you all! I trust you with my life!” He proclaimed, almost desperate to make that clear.

“And we feel the same,” Geoff responded calmly, the gentle smile never leaving his face.

One thumb rose to his mouth, the nail already chewed back as far as it would go, another habit reminiscent of the scared kid Geoff first met. Every time he caught a glimpse of that boy again he was reminded that his city’s greatest fuck up was the disaster that had been the previous generation, the parents that had raised the current lot making a living in these streets, whether they had treated their kids well like Jack’s and Jeremy’s or been assholes like his own or Ryan’s, or were like Fredo’s and simply not even registered they existed; unintentional or not, they were the ones who’d turned the city into the corrupt monster it was today. Be they the ones who physically made it happen or simply stood by and did nothing, they’d left it to their children to be the ones to deal with the horrific mess. He certainly didn’t place blame in people like Jeremy or Jack’s parents, they probably did the best they could with what they had, but it was why Geoff could never stop. He just had to try his best to leave his home in a slightly better state for the next generation than the one that had been handed to him. 

“Is killing someone always bad?” Alfredo asked. It was such an unexpected question it rendered Geoff speechless for a moment or two, and he took a while to properly study Alfredo’s face trying to decipher where on earth it had come from.

“Well, there’s no single answer to that, is there?” he replied. “We might kill people in the name of making things right and better… not to mention the countless thugs we’ve landed in ER, but who’s to say if it’s good. It has good effects - you’ve seen the benefits with your own eyes that have come from the deaths of certain individuals, but whether that makes the actual act of killing them good –” he looked with a wistful smile to Alfredo, who was watching and listening intently – “I think that’s up for the individual to decide. Everybody’s entitled to their own beliefs.”

Alfredo stayed silent, but he seemed a little more at ease, dropping his chewed fingers from his mouth to pick up one of the figures.

“What do you think?” Geoff tried.

Alfredo’s mouth pulled into an undecided expression, so Geoff, returning to his kneeling position, reached out and picked up a figure for himself, no idea who it was supposed to be but it looked villainous enough.

“Say you saw this man, someone you’ve never met before, about to pull the trigger on, I dunno, Jack. You’d kill him first, right?” he asked, and Fredo slowly nodded. “Right. Cause you love Jack and you’d do anything to protect him. All you know about this man is that he’s going to kill someone you care about and you have to stop him. Sometimes killing is the best option to ensure the least amount of people get hurt. In this case, do you think the act of killing this man is good?”

“Yeah… cause it means Jack’s alive,” Alfredo murmured, studying the eyepatch-wearing figurine like it was real. “He was gonna hurt somebody for no reason so stopping that from happening was good.”

“There you have it,” Geoff said. “For no reason. When you can see nothing but the result of this man’s actions then killing him does seem good. There’s an action - him trying to kill Jack, a reaction - you killing him instead, and a result - his death. And a lot of the time that’s all we ever see, that one result of killing someone. The death of another human being in exchange for others.”

With Alfredo still hanging off his every word, Geoff reached down and gathered up three more figures, placing them to one side. “Now let’s give a different scenario, almost the same but one thing is different. You know this man. Not well, but you know he’s ex-army, suffers from PTSD, has a wife and two teenage kids,” he continues, referring to the other figures. “Now how do you feel about killing him. Is it still good?”

Alfredo looked between the plastic characters, before turning back to Geoff. “Couldn’t I find a way to stop him without killing him?” he asked.

Geoff shook his head. “Not in this scenario. I know things change in a split second all the time in real life but for the sake of this, I’m saying you either kill this man or he will kill Jack.”

“Okay,” Alfredo said. “Then of course I’d still kill him. But it wouldn’t feel good to know I did that. I don’t even know if it would be good, even though Jack probably helps more people than that guy does… Does it make me bad for killing him?”

“No,” Geoff said. “No worse than when you killed him before, when he was just a man who was going to kill your friend. But does that make you _wrong_ … well, who knows? The action and reaction haven’t changed, the only thing that’s different are the results that you yourself can see.”

“Death. And… and what else?”

“Loss of life,” Geoff said. “This man is dead, yes, but he’s also lost a life. And it’s lives that we so rarely get to see when we do what we do. We’ve killed a man cause he’s a serial rapist, or a ruthless drug trafficker, or a kidnapper, or a murderer – we saw how their actions do great damage to those around them, we saw how taking them out will benefit those same people, we saw them die. What he don’t see is the complete life they leave behind, and who knows how it might affect us if we did. But for me, I know I’m happy to live with the choices I make, and as long as I’ve got my family to come home to, I can sleep soundly at night. A good night’s sleep - I think that’s often a good indicator as to whether or not you truly feel like you’ve been doing the right thing. Maybe not a good thing, but a right one. Am I making any sense?”

Alfredo seemed a little spaced out; he stared back at him for a moment before, to his surprise, sat up and wrapped his arms around Geoff’s waist.

“Gavin says he won’t kill anyone,” he said, speaking into Geoff’s shoulder. “He says it’s something he could never do again.” In a second, he sat up, big eyes staring intently at him again. “He had to make a choice, Gavin, I mean - this guy had a knife on a girl, and he could’a just killed him, but he didn’t. He put people in more danger just cause he didn’t want me to shoot in case they got killed.” His eyes drifted sideways, towards the hallway, maybe wondering who was at home. “When I asked why, he just said he couldn’t do it. That it wasn’t right for him.”

Geoff wasn’t quite following the very rushed narrative, but as always he knew better than to push hard for specific details, calm conversation was always the best route to take with Fredo and you’d get to the bottom of things eventually.

“So you and Gavin have gone to the park, and you’ve seen someone who’s going to hurt people,” he said, wrapping things round to the beginning. “And Gavin’s acted in a way you weren’t expecting.”

“It was near the bars, an alleyway behind. There were some dudes from Blue Skulls,” Alfredo explained. “We were just walking - I was showing him all the weird trees and it was cool, but then we both could tell that shit was going down, and I was gonna call you guys, but then Gavin was already going over and I… I didn’t know what to do so I just followed him…”

He stumbled over half his words, rushing anxiously through the sentences – when he got to the part where Gavin had disarmed him he flinched. Like it was happening again, his fingers fiddling with the hem of Geoff’s shirt.

“So it _was_ Gavin who gave you that?” Geoff demanded, referring to the small bandage.

He wasn’t angry with Gavin – well, not entirely true, _but –_ least now he knew why the boy had been so secretive about where it had come from. Alfredo wriggled the limb anyway, clenching his jaw.

“It’s only cause he took me by surprise,” he said, a little sulkily. “I ain’t that easy.”

Geoff couldn’t help it; as much as he tried to stay serious-faced, he knew the hint of amusement must show. He had spent a long time mulling over what could have occurred between the two, but this was a development he hadn’t seen coming. Gavin certainly was becoming more interesting by the day. He’d taken down six people on his own. Then he’d returned like nothing had happened, returned only to get in a fucking paint war with Jeremy – put a smile on the younger man’s face Geoff had been missing, and he could tell from Alfredo’s slow, hesitant smile that he noticed.

“I thought you might be mad,” he breathed. “With me. I thought you’d be mad I got involved – you always tell me never to go in alone, to always have backup. But at the time I thought maybe Gavin counted? But then I thought you might be mad cause I put Gavin in danger cause he’s not like us.”

“I’d never be mad at you for trying to help someone,” Geoff said, softly.

“You shouted at me that one time, with that dog. You said – “ _don’t ever do that again you stupid boy_ ”, I remember,” he recited.

“Don’t mistake my concern for anger. And you know I meant what you did was stupid, not you.” They were referring to the time Fredo had jumped off a pier to save an old lady’s dog. Both of them had nearly ended up drowning, and kindly given Geoff a heart attack in the process.

“So you’re really not mad about what happened?” he murmured. There was a genuine, happy relief in his voice. “I knew you’d help. Thank you for talking to me. I think… I think I understand him now… yeah, Gavin’s starting to make sense.”

“Oh, well I’m glad that makes one of us! The one thing I’m missing out on is how the fuck did this fight go down exactly!?”

“Oh, it was nothing that special.” Alfredo’s words had him pause again. “They were all pretty fucked up already, he didn’t have to do much when they basically took themselves out. Just distracted them really to let that girl get away.”

“If they were so easy why was it your first instinct to draw your gun then?” Geoff questioned, carefully.

Alfredo stilled, and then let out a slow breath.

“Well, I didn’t know, did I? I was just reacting, just like Gavin was just reacting. Even if I had killed one I wouldn’t have felt bad – like you just said, I know I would’a been able to sleep easy if I had. Cause they were Blue Skull and they’re fucking assholes."

Geoff wasn’t sure that was exactly true, for all his bravado now he could tell there was still something the boy was hiding.

“I mean, he was quite good for a little guy,” Alfredo continued. “He and Ryan should train together. Maybe that’d do them some good. Ryan might not mind spending time with Gavin if he gets to fight him at the same time. And then he’d realize that he’s not whoever he thinks he is… or, like… maybe he is, but maybe there’s nothing wrong with that.”

There was a brief pause, the older man opening and closing his mouth a few times, silently.

“I love you, Fredo.” Was all Geoff could think to say in the end, sensing there was still something niggling the younger’s mind, seeing that he wasn’t going to get anything else out of him, understanding there was probably a very good reason for that.

Alfredo blinked.  

“I know,” he said, quietly, and then laughed a little. “I love you too.” A cheeky smirk. “Y’know when Jeremy and Gavin got covered in paint, yesterday – I took photos of them. Before they showered off. I don’t quite know what I’m gonna do with them yet – I’ll think of something cool. I’m just happy that they both made each other happy, that things aren’t weird between them just cause of Ryan. Now I just want Ryan to be happy too, he deserves to feel happy too, even if he has said some mean stuff recently, like the stuff that made me get mad.”

“I wish there was a simple solution to that,” Geoff replied, his voice tight and quiet. “I miss seeing happy Ryan too.”

“Waiting for him to talk isn’t enough,” Alfredo said, and tilted his head expectantly. “If he was gonna tell us the real reason he’s so mad he’d have told us by now! Before things have gotten better with time, but this time it’s just getting _worse_ – no, it’s getting more _complicated_. You have to _protect_ what you have – by any means necessary. Even when people don’t understand your reasons, what you’re trying to do. That’s what Ryan told me once. But I don’t think I’d ever really seen what he meant until now, with Gavin. Whatever his reasons, he thinks he’s protecting us by acting how he is. And we can help him see where he might be wrong, but we shouldn’t be angry, should we? He’s still family.”

There was genuine, raw emotion in his voice. And now it was Geoff’s turn to pull him into a tight hug, overcome with an intense feeling also, of pure thankfulness – somehow still caught by surprise after all these years. In how easily Alfredo could take everything and present it in a way that was so special. 

How easy he found it to see the good through all the bad, especially when it came to them. 

_You’re his heroes, aren’t you?_ Burnie had mentioned that to him once, and it lingered in the back of his mind.

_Some kind of hero you are, Geoff… can’t even find a way to keep your family together, helpless even when one of your own his falling apart right in front of you. And he’s right – of course he’s right – Ryan would never act in such a way for such a long time out of anger. He’s not the beast he was brought up to believe he was. You’ve spent so long trying to convince him he’s not and yet when push came to shove you tried to brush it aside as simple anger issues. Even when deep down you could see it was more. That his actions were out of fear, not rage._  

_And fear can make the best of us act irrationally._

_Especially when it’s family. Because fucking hell, Ryan loves them. That has never been in doubt. And he loves Jeremy more than anything. If he ever thought Jeremy might be under threat…_

He felt weirdly unsettled and calm at the same time, and took a moment to wrestle his thoughts, mulling over the truth that had always been there.

“We’ll find out what he’s so frightened of. I promise,” he said, giving the dark hair a fond tousle. 

Alfredo laughed, ducking away.

“You don’t need to promise me. You need to promise Ryan.” He leaned in again, staring earnestly. “Whatever happens, Ryan’s family and we do whatever we can to help family. Even if he doesn’t like it.” He looked at Geoff very seriously then, and despite how non-judgemental he knew the boy to be, Geoff couldn’t help feeling self-conscious. “He’s acting very tough, Ryan, but I’ve seen enough scared kids to recognise one.” 

Geoff swallowed back the lump in his throat.

“I promise, Ryan,” he whispered into the quiet room – he put as much determination behind those words as possible, soft as they were. Somehow saying it out loud made him feel one step closer. 

“Geoff?” Alfredo said. He looked at him, normal expression returning – then looked out to the city. He hummed thoughtfully. “Do you think they’ll be okay tomorrow?”

“He didn’t take the idea of Gavin being with them too badly,” Geoff began, though the man’s stoic grunt hadn’t exactly been a seal of approval either.

“No. Guess that’s a good sign,” Alfredo said, still not over the revelation that someone they’d helped in the past might be mixed up in all this. It took a lot of trust and time for any of them to reveal their identities to an outsider, Gavin was one of the few exceptions. 

Geoff wasn’t sure what that said about the man, or them.

“We’ll just have to see how it goes. Maybe it’ll open some new doors with him,” he said, somewhat optimistically.

“Yeah,” Alfredo replied, quietly.

“Whatever happens, with Ryan, with this job, we’ll stick together.” Geoff’s eyes were warm. “Like _you_ always say – we’re family. That means accepting the good and the bad and dealing with any consequences.”  

“He… he really should get to know Gavin. Guy’s full of even more surprises than you first think,” Alfredo began and quickly stopped, like he had been unsure what he was saying.

“Yeah? Like what?”

The boy shook himself. Geoff saw the same flash in his eyes from earlier, the one that told him there was more to his and Gavin’s encounter than he was letting on.

“I dunno. He’s just not like most people,” Alfredo muttered.

Geoff frowned a little, but he trusted the boy to believe he was hiding whatever it was for a good reason and he wasn’t about to push him. 

“Well, we’re not like most people, are we?” he smiled. “So it’s no wonder he’s fit in like a missing puzzle piece.”

“Yeah! It does feel like that!” Alfredo’s eyes lit up, grinning ear to ear at Geoff’s words. “Like he’s always been here, even though he’s hardly been here at all. He’s become a part of us, whether he knows it or not.” 

“Yeah,” Geoff murmured, but it was kind of unsettling again, he thought. Not bad, but the realization that, yes, Gavin had become a part of them, was daunting. They’d been nice, Geoff had asked him to stay, but how much had he considered what that really meant? Was this how it had been for the others… when they’d joined?

No. Nothing of the sort. And yet – it really did feel as natural as a building block sliding into it’s intended slot.

But now was not the time to ponder over Gavin’s place with them. They had bigger things to worry about right now. 

* * *

There was no sign of intrusion – or anything else at all – that might have suggested the ops tower had been hacked. Eventually, after a couple of hours, he and Gavin had given the computers a thorough check. The staff who’d been ordered aside under the pretense of an unannounced security check were starting to grow tired and restless.

Ryan took out his ID badge as he paused to look around the room, and smiled a little at how easy it had been to get in. Matt really was a one of a kind when it came to forgery. He’d set them up with everything for this little recce, fake names, addresses, job titles, even the fake company they worked for had a website, and any background checks would come up clean.

It had turned up pretty fruitless however, but it had given Ryan and Jeremy the chance to see Alex. Or Casey Johnson as he was now known, the boy who they’d rescued but not before half his face had been ripped apart. Ryan wasn’t sure if he was supposed to pity him.

The kid had obviously been deemed trustworthy, for the few of them to risk revealing their identities to him. Or perhaps Geoff had pitied him too much, and thought him harmless more than anything, blinded by his need to help a helpless creature that he didn’t stop and think about the repercussions it may have in the future. Jack’s heart was sometimes bigger than his brain, and Fredo didn’t have the foresight to understand at the time. But Geoff… maybe Geoff should have known better.

Still. The kid was alive. And if that had been Geoff’s sole goal… well, maybe he had made the right choice.

“You, “ Ryan said. “You were working here the night they found those bodies?”

“Me?” Johnson, sat up in his corner, surprised, pushing blond hair from his face. He kept a small distance from the rest of the workers, Ryan noted, choosing not to join in on any of the banter – one light blue eye aimed firmly in the other direction while the other stared ahead, lifeless. “What has that gotta do with anything, Sir?”

“Just curious. Even for these parts, it’s not every day you find that many bodies at once,” Ryan said. “From your computer, could see you were logged in at the time I heard they found them. Did you see anything of what happened? Got a good view up here – even as dark as it would’ve been.”

“Oh. Someone must’ve logged in as me, I wasn’t here,” the man said. “Didn’t hear about any of it until the next day.”

“Someone else, huh, but you don’t know who? What’s the point of all these security measures if you’re just gonna be logging in to each other's computers?” Gavin played up their roles. “One day one of you’s gonna do something stupid and get another in trouble. If you really are as tight as you like to think you should also respect that there are boundaries. And that work computers and logins are one of them.”

“Okay…”

The workers mumbled collectively, unsure as they eyed up Gavin. A silence fell, in which Ryan noted that Gavin and Jeremy were talking quietly nearby, going over something on Gavin’s shiny new phone. He walked over to them, although he felt a bit awkward. He hated himself for it, hated the feeling of being an outsider all of a sudden. It wasn’t supposed to be like that with Jeremy.

“So,” Jeremy said then, breaking the silence. He picked up his bag and patted Gavin on the shoulder. Gavin followed suit, smiling lightly – cast his gaze over to the group. “All’s good, you can get back to work now, on your _own_ computers. But, Mr. Johnson, we’d appreciate if we could have a quick word with you outside.”

“With me, but…” the man began – Gavin’s smile turned wider, but Ryan could see the glimmer of a warning behind it. Johnson could too, it seemed, as he nodded quickly, “That’s fine.”

“Let him do his thing…” Jeremy whispered, and Ryan glanced over at him, unsure how he was supposed to take that. It seemed to take the other man a while to continue.

“We’ve been working fine together so just don’t ruin it now,” Jeremy settled on, finally.

Ryan stared at him.

“Don’t worry, I won’t pull on my leash,” he whispered back, finally.

Jeremy bit his lip, then turned away and headed out behind Gavin. It was like another stab in the gut; Ryan could feel he was losing the younger man by the day, but he had no idea what exactly had been broken or how he was supposed to try and fix things.

“What happened that night,” Gavin was speaking as he exited – he must’ve felt Ryan’s glare, because he cocked his head back to meet it steady on, before continuing his talk to Johnson. “Wouldn’t blame if it’d shaken you a bit, but it’s no excuse to let any standards slip. You boys follow procedure, as always. And for God’s sake wear some proper shoes.” 

“Oh, sorry, yeah…” the man replied, softly. The words were shaky as he glanced down at the black sneakers on his feet. “I uh… forgot my work pair, and I was already late… so these were the next best thing. Won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Gavin’s hand stretched out, shaking the man’s own firmly. “Don’t want any more incidents here, do we?”

Ryan watched, but as much as he wanted to jump in to add his own two cents, he couldn’t deny that Gavin looked like he knew what he was doing. Shit, he’d wanted to see something – _needed to –_ anything, something he could use to back him up. But Gavin had yet to make a mistake.

“So what does this have to do with anything?” Gavin continued.

This time both Jeremy and Ryan stilled for a second, while the Brit gestured to Johnson’s half-face.

“Oh, I got this a while back,” the man replied, and subconsciously reached up to rub at the metal, running a thumb against the artificial cheek with a slight squeak. Ryan remembered. All of it. He’d waited a long time before somewhat normal sleep returned after witnessing the horrors in those laboratories. “It’s nothing to do with uh… with anything. Kind of a reminder more than anything that I need to make smart decisions rather than rash ones, plus it means people never forget my face. That’s not always a good thing I guess – but it’s nice to be the guy, even if it is the freaky metal guy.”

“You don’t mind it then?” Jeremy added. “I mean, I think it looks pretty cool but I guess that’s just me looking not having to actually… y’know, live with it.”

“Yeah, but I was lucky to have some guys help me out. There were good people.” Johnson gave a small smile. “And it was kinda a conversation starter with my fiancé, so there’s that…” 

“Oh yeah?” Jeremy asked, one eyebrow rising.

“Yeah,” the man said, cheeks heating. “Gonna have a little boy soon. S’why it’s worrying with all these jobs getting lost. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sirs?” 

“Not our business,” Gavin told him. He gave a small, strange smile. “But I hope it works out.” 

“Yeah.”

“Right! We best be going. Find some better shoes.”

“Right.” Johnson nodded, before turning and heading back to his work, and Jeremy caught Ryan’s eye with a bit of a helpless look as if their trip had been a completely fruitless one. So he hadn’t noticed, then.

“Well, this has been _great,_ ” Jeremy said, sarcastically.

Ryan went to reply, but Gavin was already shaking his head.

“He didn’t need to say anything, it’s all there to see,” he said, casually, lazily running a hand through his hair.

Ryan’s lips twitched.

“You noticed it, too,” he said, something unfamiliarly impressed in his tone, catching them both by surprise, Ryan feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

“I figured you’d be on the same page,” Gavin muttered.

He looked away, but a moment later his eyes were back on Ryan’s, a hesitant smile on his face. His eyes were alight and excited, just like they had been that time back with the lock picks – before they’d both flared up at each other and made things even worse. The sort of look that Ryan knew he also got when all other emotions were set aside and he was purely focused on the goal.

His eyes. _Those_ eyes. Why did it always come back to the eyes? At the end of the day, how much could they truly reveal?

Jeremy was watching them carefully, and Ryan could tell he was worried he was missing some underlying tension. That Ryan was going to snap again for a seemingly unknown reason.

_He no longer trusts you as much. And who’s fault it that? Yours._

He took a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said, quietly, following Gavin’s lead as they made their way to get out. “That wasn’t bad, y’know. You’re surprisingly confident for someone who was quiet for so long. And I’m annoyed as fuck, yeah, but I’m big enough to admit when I see something impressive. So… whoever you are, or were… you know what you’re doing. I don’t trust you, don’t mistake that,” he added, just to make sure they were still clear on that front. “You’re not telling us things, things that are obviously very important. But, I dunno, whatever. It’s not like I can get rid of you. Unless I just killed you but then I’d lose the only family I have. So yeah, well…”

Gavin had the decency to look as shocked as Ryan was as the words left his mouth, jaw slackening into an almost open-mouthed stare. 

“Thanks, Ryan,” he breathed. 

“Sure, take it as a compliment,” Ryan replied, quickly, but not angrily. He heard movement by his side and found Jeremy’s face quite close, the man’s smile warm. 

Ryan bit his lip. He still wanted nothing more that to go back to the way things were before Gavin had turned up – but with great effort, he supposed he could force himself into tolerating the man’s presence to keep Jeremy happy.

Didn’t mean he’d stop watching the man like a hawk.

“We should hurry,” he whispered. It was hard to get the words out. “If we’re going where we’re going we won’t have that much time.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, frowning.

“Casey was absent for a bit when we first arrived. Now he said that he didn’t wear his work boots today… but that’s not true, we _both_ saw that… He changed shoes after he got back from wherever he went,” Gavin explained, taking lead once more. “So he went somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be, we can assume. And if we are to believe Trevor, he was also here on the night the bodies were discovered. Safe to say these two events might be connected. And judging from his feet we can guess where he was.”

Jeremy was silent for a moment, taking this in. He was looking to Ryan for guidance now. After a moment, he nudged Ryan’s shoulder gently.

“And I guess this all makes sense to you too,” he said, slowly. “I knew this would all work out in the end. Look at _us_. This is more like it. You two being all cool and detective-y and me here to bring the swagger. But now will one of you for the love of God please tell me what I’m missing that is apparently so obvious?”  

He was still in a kind of weird frame of mind, but Ryan couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face.

“It’s only not obvious to you because you have the attention span of a goldfish,” he said, teasingly, “If you’d looked, you’d see. His shoes change. His jeans are damp at the bottom. Our boy’s been getting his toes wet.” 

When Gavin looked back with a knowing smile Ryan almost hissed as a long healed scar twinged across his ribs. But he managed to remind himself this time to not react. He was in control, for now. He wasn’t going to react unless Gavin did first. 

“You’re making it sound easier to notice these things than it is,” Gavin said. “People rarely study other people’s feet. His jeans had practically dried by now. And someone having wet feet isn’t exactly that suspicious, anyway.”

“Unless –” 

“Unless it’s a very sunny and dry day outside.” It was emphasized by him pushing the door open, the three of them walking out into the summer heat. “And if you’ve had a lot of practice in recognizing when someone is bullshitting you. Then you could say it was obvious that he was hiding something.”

“Alright, smart-asses,” Jeremy replied, mockingly, catching Ryan’s hand. 

Ryan tensed for a second. For a moment it felt totally foreign and strange to have Jeremy’s hand in his, not to mention that it probably wasn’t the brightest idea to be walking around like this while they were still keeping up a cover. Jeremy’s grip was tight, though, and very quickly the touch felt normal, a feeling he didn’t realize how badly he’d missed surging up inside him. _He’s still here._ Did _this_ mean they were okay? They couldn’t exactly talk about it now.

Gavin glanced their way, face blank, but if he disapproved of their public show of affection he didn’t say anything.

“With the three of us working together?” he urged. “The best teams are all made up of very different people, and I don’t think you get much different than us three. This is perfect. ”

The determination in his voice, in his face, made something rise up in Ryan’s chest. He had detected an emotion of hope. Like Gavin really wanted to believe what he spoke was true. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, and something snapped in Gavin; broke past whatever fear and self-doubt was holding him back and laughed, joyfully, carefree – eyeing Ryan and Jeremy with a certain fondness, sending the hair’s on the back of Ryan’s neck upright, such was the mix of voices screaming inside his head. The other man might still be all he feared he was, but Ryan could hear other voices now pounding inside his skull, beating against the back of his head, telling him that he wasn’t seeing the full picture. That there was more to Gavin than even Ryan had first thought.

Maybe it was the warmth of Jeremy’s hand in his again that had such a calming effect. He’d been so caught up recently with everything in his own head that he’d neglected what he truly craved. To be loved by another, by a man he trusted and cared for more than anyone else in the world, to know that he had a place in the world that was stable and secure, someone by his side who could make him feel invincible no matter what he faced.

Just having that hand comfortably in his made him feel better. Uneasy, but better. 

“I trust you both,” Jeremy said, looking up at the two of them. It was true, he _really_ felt he did.   

Ryan saw Gavin watching them, too, out of the corner of his eye, and nodded as he met the other man’s eyes, briefly. “I suppose that’s good enough for me.” 

“Good.” Gavin returned his nod courteously before looking ahead. “We should move quickly, then. There’s only one place around here Johnson could have been and pretty soon it’ll be impossible to get to unless you fancy a swim.”

* * *

Gavin looked around as they climbed up onto the deck. Compared to the wreckages of the smaller fishing vessels half-submerged in the sand around them, the old container ship still stood strong. The back half had sunk so deep that everything was tilted at an angle, and even with his climbing skills Gavin felt safer if he were holding onto something secure at all times.

This was where the original port had been according to Jeremy and Ryan, back when the city was more of a town and the main industry had been fish and crabs. Now it was long abandoned, everything left almost exactly as it was fifty years ago, a ghost dockyard. 

Gavin took in a whirlwind of various algae and birds nests that had set up home on deck. It didn’t look like a human being had set foot on the ship for years – many of the doors appeared rusted shut, some blocked by debris, but he was almost certain this was where their man had disappeared to. Any footprints in the sand had oozed away, but the fact that their own feet were soaked with saltwater and wet sand felt like proof enough, all they needed to do was find _something_.

There was nothing obvious, and it was a random choice more than anything when he pushed open one of the giant metal doors. He cautiously scanned the inside with a torch, looking for signs of life – but found nothing.

“You notice anything strange?” he hissed to Ryan, who stumbled alongside him.

The other man looked in. He seemed a different person now – had been walking quietly in deep thought since he’d almost knocked both of them out with his comment to Gavin. It had been so surprising. Even that morning it felt like he was still out for blood, by the way he’d glared at Gavin when they set out. He’d been freaking out that he’d make some dumb _mistake_ – even though today had hardly been what he’d call taxing. Child’s play, really.

For Ryan it must be even more surprising, given how shocked his expression had been when he’d said something that wasn’t an insult or a threat for once. He was struggling to come to terms with his fears and his beliefs; it was a trial Gavin could relate to, and even now there was a clear _fear_ Gavin could still detect that unsettled him, made something almost defensive rise up in his chest.

“Well, there’s nothing out here. We best go in,” Ryan replied, after looking around. After a moment he took a deep breath and seemed to shake himself, his face turning steely and hard, the way it had been when he was getting prepared for the jewelry heist.

“You okay?” Gavin asked.

“Let’s go, you two stay behind me,” Ryan replied, voice flat. 

Gavin bit his lip – but he did as Ryan said and continued to follow along behind. It was even harder now in the limited light to maintain a steady footing, but he kept his center of gravity low, so that even when Jeremy kept slipping into his back he stayed on his feet. There was really only one path through the hull. Unless there was some trick they were missing the majority of the doors were jammed or certain routes impassable, and it set Gavin’s nerves on edge as he realized anyone who might already be here would not only hear them coming a mile off, but would also have them basically trapped in a tunnel. 

“I definitely heard _something_ that time!” Jeremy hissed as they passed through a broken door. Gavin had heard it too but he’d also heard many other things, with the whole ship creaking and growling every step they took it was hard to distinguish individual sounds. “It’s coming through the pipes! There’s the voices that I keep hearing! I _swear_. Can you guys here that? Is this place fucking haunted? I – right, sorry. I’ll shut up.”

A look from Gavin was all he needed to quiet down. He was pretty sure he’d heard voices too – and if they traveled through the old ship to them, then theirs would also, and even he was unprepared for a fight in a place such as this, especially having no idea what he might be going up against. They’d be fighting blind – both figuratively and literally – a few flashlights between them wasn’t going to count for much in this dark.

The passageway took a sudden, sharp turn into a large room. One side was home to a bunch of old containers that looked as unsteady as their feet were on the floor, that Gavin presumed had collapsed down from the deck above – there was actual daylight seeping through the cracks where the upper side had caved in. They were near the far end of the ship; any further and they’d have to start digging through sand.

There were a number of pitter-patters above them. It was probably just gulls; there’d been plenty of them, watching them eagerly as they’d climbed aboard. _No sign of any people,_ Gavin couldn’t help worry, if those had been voices they’d been hearing they were most likely still around somewhere.

_Can you handle another fight? Like before?_

The danger could be immeasurable, there were so many factors that could come into play and potential threats they hadn’t even considered yet. Especially since they had no idea what sorts of people they were actually dealing with other than fucking assholes who didn’t give one shit about the lives of others.

Gavin strode out and broke away from Jeremy and Ryan. There was something that had caught his eye on the side of the room that wasn’t blocked off. An old table that just seemed off – too clean, Gavin noted, everything else was so dusty, but in comparison the wooden surface was spotless. When he tested lifting up one end, well, it was either made out of some impossibly heavy wood or there was more to it than met the eye. 

“Here, guys,” he declared, ducking down and running his hands under the edges. “I think we might have actually hit something here! Ryan, put your hand under the opposite end, feel that? In the middle? I’m gonna push in this side in three, two, one –”

There was a resounding _click_ sound as they both pushed at the mechanism, and the tabletop raised up. Ryan’s jaw clenched tight, staring at Gavin expectantly, but it was Jeremy who lunged forward and flipped it open the rest of the way. Gavin’s hands tightened in their gripped place, though, ready for some kind of surprise or trick this seemingly harmless table might have in store for them.

“Good thing that wasn’t rigged,” he commented, with a smirk and a sigh of relief, “Let’s see what we’ve got in here then. Get your phones out, take photos of all of it.”

He lifted out the item closest to him and shone his torch across it. It was a hefty notebook – inside pages filled with codes, numbers, and dates that made no sense to him, dating all the way back to three years ago, the most recent one being just a few _days_ ago.  

But there was nothing incriminating in these pages. Just evidence that _something_ was going on. Jeremy wasn’t spending too much time to examine everything, more concerned taking photos, but Ryan on the other hand was still, hands white-knuckle gripped over a strange bronze colored pipe.

_The fuck is that?_ Gavin thought.  

Whatever it was it was having a bad effect on the other man, Gavin could see the whites of his eyes as he stared down unblinkingly. He could feel that same wave of fear, back at the apartment when they’d been arguing and the man had been reduced to his knees.

“Ryan?” he demanded, when the silence continued. He didn’t mean to sound as irritated as he did, it was his own nervousness just seeping out. “Ryan, c’mon, we can’t spend too long here. What’s up with him? Jeremy?”

Ryan slammed the mystery object against the table. The loud _crash_ made Jeremy and Gavin jump and flinch, but it still didn’t snap Ryan out of it.

“Ryan, look at me!” Jeremy hissed, grabbing the man’s face in his hands, forcing it his way. “It’s alright, look at me! I’m here.” 

Jeremy was frantically trying to bring Ryan back to them, who stared back at him, just looking confused. Gavin began to hear mutterings, head twisting around to the passageway they’d walked through, and this time he was certain there were people headed their way. After a moment he was leaping into survival mode, shoving everything back into the table as much in its place as he could remember and returning the lid shut. 

“We need to go!” he barked, quietly but assertively.

He himself made his way over to the mess of containers as the voices grew louder and footsteps started to echo towards them. He braced himself, waiting for Jeremy to manhandle a frozen Ryan over to him – how were they going to do this now? – there was not a word between them save for a nervous silence, Ryan standing limply while the two of them jostled him around, practically shoving him onto the first container.

For a good two minutes they climbed. A few times it felt like the whole thing was going to collapse underneath them, and Gavin’s face was red with exertion at having to basically drag Ryan up with them. He was just thankful that somehow they’d not been discovered, the voices sounded so close now, and he let out a hissing breath, helping to push Ryan the last of the way out through the small gap onto the deck.

“What language is that?” Jeremy asked. “Sounds like European but I can’t detect it. Sounds kinda like Italian but not at the same time? Fuck, do you think they know we were here – I should’ve seen it, with Ryan. I shouldn’t have… _ahhh_ –”

He didn’t finish his sentence as he flung an arm up and pulled himself out of the belly of the beast, lending a hand to pull Gavin out too. Gavin’s stomach twisted – that escape had been all too close, and apparently Ryan had hardly been aware of any of it. He wondered what on Earth had triggered this state – Jeremy appeared as lost as him.

“Well, we got something…” Gavin turned his back to the two of them, and stared out along the empty shoreline. “It seems we’re gonna have to be wading back. I don’t really feel like spending the night here. We go back, show the others what he found – see if we can’t start to make sense of all this. We’ll get there, I know we will.” He glanced back to Jeremy. “Anything I can do let me know, otherwise I’ll just shut up and let you two… y’know.”

He switched his glance, towards Ryan and his still form – but the other man just remained as he was, a shell.

“Oh, I think I might need some help just getting him back.” Jeremy leaned in close, his breath warm against Gavin’s face. “This is bad, Gavin, and I – yeah… I need you here. Okay?”

The glint in his eyes was worrying and Gavin sent another glance to Ryan, but there were no words he could say to make anything better before they were taking a stand either side of the man and dragging him away once more.

* * *

He’d spent so many years in The Warrens that dark felt more at home than light – tunnels so tight that the open air felt strange and unnatural. Even as a kid he was forced to stoop low at some points; he hadn’t been sure how some of the _huge_ guys survived down there – like giant worms burrowing underground.

It was completely dark when he went to see him, and only the tight grip of his fingers around the metal railings kept him steady as he stumbled down. The air was so warm and close that he could hardly breathe. Presently he began to hear a mechanical sort of scratching, the rhythmic grinding of metal on metal. The scrapes of metallic sparks and the clanging of more metal.

The occasional, piercing scream echoed up through the small tunnel, which was… not unusual. Finally, the tunnel opened out into a wider space – dimly lit by small orange lights in each corner. There were several dark doorways leading out, from which came the further cries of pain and fear.

“Ah, it’s the kid you wanted to see,” a voice shouted out, a young, skinny, and quite dirty man hunched over in the corner who was wiping his hands on an old rag, and whose eyes were completely covered by a pair of what looked like black goggles. “I saw your fight the other night. They don’t lie when they call you a pitbull – vicious, it was beautiful to behold. Shame you’ve made a name for yourself now, I could’ve won a lot more if you were still 66/1. Guess you don’t care too much about all that, long as you win without too many broken bones.”

The man jerked his head to a passageway on Ryan’s right, with windows on either side. “He’s down there.” Ryan walked silently away. From each window gusted more hot air that stung his eyes and made him feel like he was being sunburnt. He could see various red glows coming from some sort of machinery in each room, and the dark shapes of people moving behind the dusty panes.

“Boss likes to keep these furnaces up and running at all times,” the man spoke, trailing a few paces behind him “Keeps the place warm, and means we can constantly be repairing or making new tools. Also, a burning hot rod is very effective… incredibly so. So I’d get used to the heat if you’re gonna be working here.” 

As they walked, one of the furnaces sparked before someone opened it up and poured out the red hot liquid. More horrible screams rang out, making Ryan picture that somewhere nearby it might actually be being poured onto skin. He wondered what that felt like. He swallowed, a little uneasy just thinking about it.

“You better get used to that racket, too,” the man said, and chuckled. “It was a bit weird for me when I first started here, but you quickly get used to it. It’s fucking annoying more than anything, but hey!” He reached out and nudged Ryan with his greasy elbow, so roughly that he stumbled. “I think you and me are going to get along fine, kid. Long as you’re a hard worker, and you are a hard worker, right?”

They reached the end of the passage. He flung open a door and a searing wave of heat emerged that made Ryan flinch back, instantly sweating, made him feel like he was looking through the door to hell.

“Don’t let him scare you, he’s good to us. Just show him what you’re about and make sure to look him in the eye. Good luck, kid – oh, name’s Paddy by the way.” He ushered Ryan into the smaller, more cramped room. There was another furnace built into one wall. Two doors covered in metal grates glowed red. Stacked against the other wall were shelves and shelves; containing instruments of a certain variety, gleaming to perfection.

In the center was the man Ryan was looking for. He had a long, curved knife in his hands and was methodically sharpening it on a spinning metal belt, red sparks flying up around him with each swipe, practiced movement –

But the moment Paddy had shut the door he stopped what he was doing. He stood up, all six and a half feet of him and thrust the knife into Ryan’s hands, pushing him roughly to take up the seat by the machine. He truly was intimidating; pure muscle mass, dark hair and even darker eyes.

His name was Cesare Vitale, and he was one of the most notorious men in The Warrens.

“Work,” he instructed simply.

Ryan didn’t need to be told twice.

“You’re smaller than you looked in the ring, a lot smaller, just a boy,” the man said. Ryan sat up, like he could try and make himself appear taller right there. He was still growing, or at least that’s what he prayed – you still grew at eighteen, right? Cesare was staring down impassively, regarding him closely. He took it with his head high and the man reached out and gripped his bicep with one massive hand. He held steady, remained calm.

“Strong,” the man said after a moment. “But you need more than strength of arm if you want to work for me.”

He reached into the shadows near the wall and produced a set of shackles. He took the chains and moved to open one of the glowing red doors, placing his hand in some kind of special glove in order to touch the burning metal. When he exited there was someone attached to those shackles, around the wrist and ankles. That wasn’t saying much, considering the man was a captive, and he bared his teeth, furious at being dragged out, but unable to do anything about it. He was sweating something fierce, Ryan could only begin to imagine how hot it must be inside that tiny cell. 

“This here, my boy, is what we call a rat. Take note, you don’t ever want to end up like him,” Cesare warned. “For more reasons that one!”

He strode out, pushing the man harshly to the concrete floor. The air was so stagnant and so warm that Ryan felt sick and dehydrated already, and the knife in his hands was beginning to get so hot he could feel heat radiating off it.

When given the order to, Ryan tested the chains, tugging at them. The man on the floor growled, sending death glares his way, but Cesare had a tight grip on the back of his neck, waiting until Ryan had deemed the chains to be strong. They were made out of solid iron, so yeah, they fucking were.

“This man believes he will not be broken!” Cesare said. “I will show him that any man can be broken…”

He walked to the wall and stood admiring the shelves, but shook his head after a moment.

“These are all my favorites and I do not wish to waste such beauties on this man,” he said. “It will not do.”

Still – he had something else up his sleeve, and that came in the form of a chest in the corner of the room, a corner so dark Ryan hadn’t even seen it until now. Out of it he pulled an object Ryan didn’t recognize, and when it was placed in his hands he viewed it skeptically.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, finally. The heat was exhausting him, and combined with the aches and pains that had yet to fade from his last fight, he was feeling too fuzzy-minded to try and guess what it was Cesare wanted of him.

“I want you to give this man a little taster,” Cesare replied, and smiled, a surprisingly wide grin that reached all corners of his face. “I will say the word “start”. Then I will say the word “again”, and you will not stop until I say “stop”. You understand?”

“Yeah,” Ryan agreed.

Cesare hooked the rod up to a machine. He flicked a switch on, and a low vibration went through Ryan’s hand, and he knew instantly what it was for. At the same time he realized exactly why the furnace sending out the blistering heat was going to make this even more unbearable; the man in the chains was already soaked in sweat and one thing he knew was that water and – 

“Start, boy,” Cesare said finally, and Ryan struck out.

It was the sound more than anything, that really got him. The sizzling sound of electrified flesh as the metal prongs pierced the man’s wet skin.

“Again,” Cesare said. 

Ryan did so, thrusting the prod into the man once more, wondering how many others had stood here before him, doing the same task.

“This is only low voltage. You can do it for longer,” Cesare told him. That meant that he wanted Ryan to administer the pain for longer, and he wasn’t to question the matter. He held it down for a few more seconds this time, and the man, who’d managed to only grunt before, let out a louder cry. 

“This is stupid,” he hissed, as Ryan continued, following the instructions as blank-faced as he could. “This _kid_ – you think a little kid’s gonna scare me? _I’ve killed more men than years you’ve been alive._ Men far bigger and stronger than you. You think working as this fuck’s minion’s gonna set you up, you’ll be dead before you know it – _why_? Because men like me can easily single out a little weakling like you.”

“Want to say that again?” Ryan retorted, and grunted as he heaved another jolt of electricity into the man’s neck. “I’ve been fighting since I was born… you can’t be around here often. Otherwise you’d know who was current champion in the pits.”

There was a drawn out silence broken only by the whirring of the sharpening machine and the crackling from the furnaces. 

“Sorry,” the man said, finally. “Didn’t realize I was in the presence of a God damn celebrity.” 

Ryan gave a slow sigh. For the next few minutes he focused on his work, and Cesare watched him – the sweat glistening on his brow, the red glow of his skin, around his knuckles where he gripped the prod a little too tight.

“Stop,” the man said shortly. “That will do. I take him back to cell now. You do – you do a good job, but I will need to talk to you.” He hauled the nameless man to his feet, skin now coated in angry red welts from Ryan’s handiwork. Silently locked him away. The man said nothing but his glare spoke louder than words as he was sent back into the darkness.

When he was finished locking up, Cesare turned to him. “You will work for me,” he began. “But you will not do this.”

“Is it cause I’m too small?” Ryan asked, softly, ready to defend himself.

The man laughed. “Height has nothing to do with it. You will grow. Trust me – Cesare knows, you will be tall man, not as big as Cesare but a good height. But you are not ready for this work, for this real work. Maybe you never will be. But I can use you in the shop, you can work with Paddy, he’ll show you the ropes.”

“I didn’t come here to learn how to sharpen metal or fix machinery,” Ryan argued. “I always said nothing would make me leave the pits, ever. Thought I’d be there until I could no longer fight and then I’d go and die in some corner somewhere. The only person who could make me leave was you. I wanted to learn from you.”

“You want to learn from me,” the man repeated. “You want to learn from me, because you feel… weak, compared to me. Even now, when you’ve beaten down so many men, you wonder what you can do to be more. Wonder if you’re doing all the things to defy what people think you are – yet at the same time, you are still just a boy, someone who seeks the guidance of others. But a lot of the time, the men you want to be like are not the ones you need to be. You remember that man who tried to assassinate Old Man Joe, back when he was still in power of the East?”

“I remember,” Ryan said, quietly.

“I had him tortured for two weeks straight. I broke everything in him that could be broken.” The man spat out the words, glancing at Ryan like he expected some sort of fear.

Ryan just shrugged. He knew all this already, it had been all the talk at the pits.

“It’s the job,” he replied, simply. “I would kill anyone who tried to hurt me. I don’t see what difference there is doing it for someone else and getting paid for it.”

“You say that but you do not mean it,” Cesare continued, as though Ryan was just a child trying to play dress-up.

“I always say what I mean.”

“Perhaps,” the man muttered. “Perhaps you do not truly know yourself, then.”

“I’m the _only_ one who knows myself,” Ryan said, firmly. “It’s always just been me. I’ve never needed anyone, people have been doubting me since day one but I always prove them wrong. Every choice I’ve ever made has been one I know I need to take. Like in the pits, you step into that ring, there’s no backing out. You fight. Or you die.”  

Cesare contemplated this for a moment, and Ryan turned over the bronze rod in his hands. When he looked over at Cesare again, he was staring down at Ryan with a strange look in his eyes. 

“So you are a fighter, but you are not a killer,” he said, slowly. 

“ _What_?” Ryan demanded, straightening up.

Cesare lifted his head. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were understanding.

“I’ve been doing this a long time, boy. I know what I’m looking for, and I saw in those few minutes that you’re not it. It’s no problem,” he added, seeing Ryan’s alarm. “Like I said, you did a good job. But you were… how to say, you were so, _so angry_. Not with him, but yourself – that you had to do this – maybe you would kill a man if he came at you? But I do not believe you can kill a man when he has been trapped and tortured for weeks. It’s not an axe you can wield.”

Ryan clenched his fists, angrily. 

“I could kill someone if I had to,” he hissed. “I could kill with my bare fucking hands.”

“Why do I get the feeling you are thinking of someone in particular when you say this?” Cesare asked.

“I’m not,” Ryan argued. “I just want to be seen the same way _you_ are. I want everyone to know I’m not to be messed with, and I don’t want to be in the pits all my life – no, it’s been a means to survive. But to be there forever? I don’t think I can do that. My dad,” he said, fiercely, and closed his eyes in memory, his breathing shakily loud in the small room. “Too long, I stayed in that _life_ – survival is important, yes, but I gotta do more than just survive. Otherwise there’s not much point in living. And violence is all I know so what better fit than this?”

Cesare didn’t give away his thoughts straight away, but Ryan held his gaze as he stepped forward, having to crane his neck back to the man who was over a foot taller than him.

“If you want to do more than survive you’re gonna have to learn when a no means no,” he said, voice low. “I can’t take you on, at least not like you are now.”

The man met his eyes for a long moment. Ryan stared back, helplessly.

“But if you want out of the pits, Ryan, I will gladly have you training under Paddy. Then, maybe, who knows? We can move on from there.” 

Ryan’s lips tightened a little. Cesare reached out and clapped him on the arm before taking the metal prod from his hands, Ryan taking a moment to loosen his grip. He walked over and threw a great mound of coal into the furnace where it fell with a sizzle and a cloud of dark smoke. Ryan watched him, chest tight. 

“Right now I believe your need to protect everybody is greater than your one to hurt them,” he said. “Protect them from the big, bad guy like you wished you could have done for yourself against your father.”

Ryan froze, shoulders heaving as he breathed heavily. He tilted his head, unsure how this meeting had gone so different to what he’d expected.

“Would you do it again?” Ryan’s head snapped up, but Cesare held his gaze steadily. “Think about it. Knowing how your life’s turned out, knowing what you’ve had to do – would you runaway to this city?”

“Yes,” Ryan replied, instantly. “Without a doubt, I would.”

Cesare nodded. The answer seemed to have given him all he needed – he nodded again, straightening up now, regarding Ryan intensely. He stepped towards him and after a moment grasped Ryan’s shoulder in his hand. 

“I know you are a very strong young man, both physical and mental,” he said. “But what you don’t realize… is that you are free. You are not trapped to any life. Not anymore. Do not be so quick to trap yourself into another one.” 

“I don’t understand what you mean, not really,” Ryan admitted. “But if you’re offering me work?” he looked around the place, back to Cesare. “I’ll take it, and hopefully prove to you I can do what you do – I know what I value, and that’s fear and respect, and I am prepared to _kill_ for that. The only way is up, there’s no way I’m going back.”

“Onwards and upwards, that I can agree with you,” the man murmured. “I think you will find you’ll fit in well here,” he said.

Ryan gave a crooked grin. He saw Cesare’s lips twitch in return. “And you can start by learning how this works. We call this a Picana, it comes from South America.” He flicked the voltage up again, a jolt of electricity bursting between the two metal tips. “Now, the beauty of this is that you can control the voltage, higher is, of course, more painful, but lower, that is the one – longer, drawn-out pain, this will always be more effective in the long run…

Ryan blinked. He was suddenly aware of multiple arms around him, and voices in his ears. 

“Get off me,” he growled.

He shoved the hands off. He was disoriented and confused and _scared_ , somehow, he wasn’t supposed to get scared. He was supposed to be strong. He was supposed to never let fear take over him, _he_ was the one in control. But it was _his_ fault, his vision settled on the culprit, eyes burning into the green ones.  

“Why can’t you just let me forget? This… this is your fault!” he cried out, pushing through the crowd of bodies, running like it was all he’d ever known.

* * *

“This was quite the find,” Michael said, flicking through Jeremy’s phone, from which were a dozen or so photos – not quite the solid clues they were looking for; a lot of names though, lists. “We’ll be able to put something together from all this, and then finally get our hands dirty. Lindsay and Gavin are doing some digging on the council, Geoff’s reaching out for any leads about this gang, and this one they call The Sicilian.”

Jeremy nodded, following along. From the lists of names the only connection they’d managed to make was that a number of them worked for the council. It was coincidence enough to confirm Trevor’s suspicion that this went way up the chain.

And then there was this other name, a man or woman referred to only as The Sicilian. The way the name was mentioned, often at the bottom of any document, made it seem like they were the one signing off on whatever all _this_ was. Honestly Jeremy was already beginning to feel a bit lost, completely out of his comfort zone on such a case.

“Lindsay and I were not as lucky,” Michael continued. “Her whole routine got us into the main office. Nothing to see though, we made copies off the computer but there was nothing on it. The foreman doesn’t seem like the type of guy to be getting involved in shit like this either, too concerned with running the place, wouldn’t have the time to be a criminal even if he wanted to. This Johnson on the other hand, we’re gonna see if we can’t get a little more out of him.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jeremy said.

They both looked at each other for a moment. Jeremy glanced uncertainly over at the other man. He had his arms folded, staring out at the red sky from Jeremy and Ryan’s window, a subdued profile with his chin lowered and shoulders slumped.

His gaze moved to the wall, and he let out an audible sigh. Photos, Jeremy avoided looking himself – found it impossible to right now, to look at the pictures of him and Ryan, smiling and laughing in one another’s company.

It hurt, more so than any physical wound ever had.

“He’ll be back,” Michael declared. “Geoff sent out an alert to the right people. If he isn’t back by tonight, someone will know where he is.”

That wasn’t true and Michael knew it. If Ryan wanted to disappear, he could fucking disappear into the shadows that was The Warrens. If he was scared enough. 

“As long as he’s alright,” Jeremy said quietly, and Michael nodded.

“Are _you_ alright?” he asked, looking over with concern.  

Jeremy sighed.

“No,” he admitted. “But I’ve got no one but myself to blame. I’m the one who’s s’posed to be there for him no matter what. But I let it all get too much for me. I couldn’t do it.”

 He’d been there for Ryan since the start, with Gavin, tried to be patient and sympathetic. But after one too many outbursts he’d stepped away with his tail between his legs; foolishly hoped everything would just somehow right itself. Earlier at the shipyard, when Ryan had shown signs of finally settling down, it had sent a thrill through him – the man’s hand in his felt at once familiar and so new, he’d been missing it for so long. 

Michael clapped him on the shoulder.

“Like you could have prevented any of this?” he pointed out. He was scowling at him, like he was angry at Jeremy for even thinking as such. Michael truly believed it, too. He was never one to soften words for the sake of another’s feelings. He liked it all out in the open so nothing could be left to misinterpretation – it was reassuring and it wasn’t, in a way Jeremy wanted to be blamed. Wanted someone to shout and scream at him.

“I’m a fucking failure, that’s what I am,” he sighed. He laid back on the bed and Michael laid back beside him, watching Jeremy closely as he leaned his head on his hand and used the other one to poke the younger man gently in the shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said. 

Jeremy glanced up and gave a very awkward smile.

“Hey,” he replied.

“You need to shut it with that talk – do you want me to fight you on it?” Michael asked, smiling a little. Jeremy was pensive – not wanting to say that was exactly what he’d been thinking should happen, that he deserved some sort of punishment for… he just deserved it.

He looked at Michael, and sighed, running his hands over his face. 

“You can’t deny I’ve made a fucking mess of everything,” he insisted. “I’ve kinda been relying on Ryan to do all the work and tell me what’s going on, rather than finding the problem for myself. Along the way I figured that I was becoming the victim for putting up with his shit and decided it would be better to give him time, time I could have spent trying to help him, y’know, rather than abandoning him. I mean Jesus Christ, Michael, you saw him. He was fucking terrified. He was fucking terrified and there was nothing I could do.”

“What about the rest of us?”

“It’s not your responsibility. You’ve all got your own shit going on. You shouldn’t need to worry about us. You’ve all got enough on your plates with this fucking trafficking thing. It hasn’t exactly been easy on anyone. Not that I’d ever change my mind, but it probably hasn’t helped with Ryan either.”

“Knowing Ryan, I wouldn’t be surprised if old wounds played some part in this.”

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Jeremy sighed and turned away, thinking over all the main incidents in the past weeks. It would be easy to pin it on his childhood and his past, on old wounds as Michael said. And yet something about it felt all so very, very new; he was afraid of something recognizable and totally unfamiliar at the same time. Not an old wound re-opening, but a fresh cut made by a familiar weapon.

When he turned back, Michael was still watching him curiously.

“Is there nothing about Gavin you can think of?” he asked suddenly. “Of something he might have accidentally said, or done?”

“Nope,” Jeremy replied. “Gavin’s completely innocent in all this. I’m not saying he’s an innocent man – God knows he’s come from a dark place, you don’t have to be a genius to see that. But he’s done nothing but be calm around Ryan, more than us. He’s a good guy, Michael.”

“Didn’t say he wasn’t.”

Michael nudged him with a gentle kick, letting out a small chuckle.

“I’m glad he was able to get you to have a little fun,” he murmured.

“You mean with all that paint?” Jeremy asked a little sheepishly. That whole thing seemed a bit like a dream, or what he imagined would happen if he ever took drugs. It had been fun… yeah, but looking back he wasn’t sure if it should have happened. It felt wrong to have fun with the very man his boyfriend hated… _feared,_ even if Gavin was innocent in it. 

“It’s strange. I don’t quite know how to describe it. Feels like he’s someone I would’ve been good friends with as a kid and he reminds me of my little sister in a way. When he first got here I was creeped out by him, how silent and secretive he was. But the more I get to know him and the more he opens up, the more I wanna spend time with him. He’s just interesting, like this huge, massive book with so much history and we’ve barely scraped by the first page.”

“Would you call him a friend?”

“He knows me better than most of my friends back in Old Sanders,” Jeremy replied, laughing.

“Well, that’s true,” Michael agreed. “At least your family’s in on your little secret life, mine still thinks I’m an electrician. But I guess… they wouldn’t get it like yours would… too far. They have no idea what it’s really like here.”

Michael paused for a moment, seeming in deep thought. After a moment, his eyes widened.

“Well,” he said. “You don’t think Ryan’s been getting jealous at all?” 

“No way!” Jeremy cried, surprised. Ryan hadn’t been around enough to even know Jeremy was getting friendlier to the new guy, and the fact that Jeremy had insisted Gavin join them that day had nothing to do with anything that followed. “You think Ryan’s the jealous type?” 

“Is he?”

“No, used to have problems with him being over-protective but he’s never tried to control me in any way.” 

“Until a mystery man appears in our lives. Ryan doesn’t like change, especially when it’s something that directly effects us. Maybe everything just felt too rushed, which it kinda was, but what can ya do? Maybe he hates Gavin being here purely for him _being_ here."  

Jeremy frowned. It was what confused him the most – if Ryan had a genuine reason for distrusting Gavin, how come it was so hard to tell Jeremy why? And what reason could there honestly be? Gavin had never set foot in AC before, and Ryan had never spent a night away since he was fifteen. There was nothing to connect the two.

“Is it wrong to wish it could be that simple?” he asked with a sigh.

“No,” Michael replied, softly. “Believe you me, I wish it was that simple too. I wish I could just wave a fucking magic wand and fix it like that. But when do we ever get to do things the easy way, right?” 

“I’m just glad it hasn’t scared Gavin off. I’m not gonna lie, I do like having him around. It’s fun to have someone new around, and it’s nice, knowing there’s one more person in the world who sees us for us and who seems to actually give a shit about what’s happening in this city.”

“He’s coped remarkably well, all things considered,” Michael mused.

“He’s certainly been a massive help on these most recent jobs.” 

“Hey, he might even help with you and Ryan in the long run, maybe he’ll turn out to be some sort of relationship guru on top of everything else… oh, we’ve got a visitor, by the way.” 

“Fredo?” The look of upset on the other’s face was enough to raise Jeremy’s protective instinct tenfold. “You okay, buddy?”

Alfredo shrugged silently. There was a moment of hesitation as he hovered in the doorway trying to figure out if he was going to stay. Seeing Michael already there might have been an unexpected surprise and now he was second-guessing himself - but they were both his friends, his brothers, his _family_.

“Is there something you wanted to talk to us about?” Michael tried, testing the waters to see if Alfredo minded him being there. 

Come to think of it, Jeremy hadn’t seen him since Ryan had fled in a flurry of fists and then Geoff, and then everyone, had kicked off earlier, and he felt like a bit of an ass for not having checked on him sooner. Nevermind how street smart he was, or how deadly he could be with a gun or a knife, it was a well-known fact that he hated any sort of tension in their little family. It genuinely scared him.

“Is Ryan mad at me?” he whispered so softly Jeremy had to strain to hear him, perching on the edge of the bed.

“No! Course he’s not!” Jeremy’s voice raised, but he lowered it quickly when the boy flinched. “Fredo, he’s not mad at you. Mad at me, maybe, but that’s allowed cause this is our mess.”

“Hey,” Michael gave the younger a gentle nudge. “Where’s all this coming from?”

“I mean, like, he doesn’t seem to like hanging out with me anymore. Ever since Gavin arrived, he always keeps avoiding me whenever I’m with him. I know he doesn’t like Gavin, I dunno why cause Gavin’s cool, but he doesn’t seem to like me either cause I _do_ like Gavin. And then he gets angry more - and I think it’s my fault, like before when he got angry and said I was being stupid, and now today with all the strange stuff he was saying, and he started pushing at everybody like he didn’t know who we were. He made my wrist bleed again – I don’t care but he didn’t even notice, he would’a always noticed before. Just feels like I can’t do anything right - and that makes me kinda sad cause I only ever want to make Ryan happy. He’s the best Ryan when he’s happy.”  

Jeremy once more felt at a loss. It could be hard, trying to explain things to Fredo at the best of times, let alone when Jeremy himself didn’t have a clue what was going on – though he knew Ryan’s actions were all stemming from a place of fear, he didn’t know what was lurking behind that fear. Jack and Geoff were always better at these sort of talks, Ryan also – that’s who he was, caring and understanding and full of love for the others. That’s the man he was, who he _still_ was.  

“Sometimes people do and say things that don’t make sense and those things can hurt the people around them,” he said. “You’ve just got to try and remember to not take it personally.” 

“But this is personal,” Alfredo insisted. “Ryan’s family and family stuff is personal. We’re meant to deal with stuff together but no one tells me anything, or you don’t tell me much. I know I’m not as smart as you guys, and I know I don’t always understand things right, but that don’t mean you can’t tell it to me straight. I’m not some kid you need to protect. I was on my own for a long time before you guys came along. I don’t mean that in a bad way,” he hastily added, face falling nervously. “Meeting you guys was the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“No one’s trying to hide anything from you but… but honestly I don’t know what to say cause I haven’t got a fucking clue myself and that is fucking, fucking _scary_.”

Alfredo’s face softened as he seemed to realise what Jeremy was getting at.

“Well, just say that. Admitting that we don’t know what’s going on is better than trying to hide everything in the hope that it’ll fix itself,” he said. “We’ve gotta be that word Jack likes to say – proactive – we gotta start chipping away at the shell Ryan’s built up around himself.”

“For all we know that might make things even worse,” Michael mused.

“Perhaps, but tiptoeing around him is certainly going to as well, and at least this way we can get answers. We can find out what’s really going on and act on it, no matter how scary it is – we’re the only people who can do this, you’re the only one, Jeremy, cause he loves you so much. No one’s gonna be able to get as close as you, you just gotta take the risk. I know I’m prepared to, Geoff said he is too, if it means I don’t have to worry about Ryan getting mad with me no more.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Jeremy repeated again, softly, and then his voice quivered a little, “What if I lose him?”

“You’re gonna lose him anyway at this rate. Either he’s actually gonna up and run one day or he’ll just get so far away from the man you love it’ll be like he’s gone anyway. That’s what I think, but, I know I could be wrong, sorry.” 

Jeremy nodded, slowly, descending into a thoughtful silence. His mind was whirling with scenarios, trying to imagine the perfect one where he could do and say everything right and it would be like nothing had ever changed, that he and Ryan could just go back to how they’d been, or be even closer than they were before… that they would get through this and come out stronger on the other side.

_My parents always made this loving thing look so easy. Isn’t it meant to be? Are the hard times supposed to be this hard?_  

“You reckon you can lose Ryan that easily? Fat chance,” Michael said after a moment, his eyes kind.

“It’s not like that,” Jeremy said, and shook himself. “It’s me doubting myself. Whatever’s been happening, the reasons behind his actions and all the rest of it. These ghosts that still haunt him. I’ve always wanted to know who they were. Why they follow him even now. But when it came to it, it fucking _scared_ me, and I didn’t know what to do.”  

“It would scare anyone. I still get scared – there’s things about my relationship with Lindsay that scare me. And I don’t mean the fact that she’s a fucking freak. Although that is definitely scary too and maybe that says more about me than her that I’ve decided to stick around. But I’m serious when I say I get scared,” he added, and something dark passed across his face. “It’s not like you and Ryan. It’s just dumb stuff in my own head, that I need to work out on my own. Just my own fears that I’m not good enough.”

“You’re right, that is dumb,” Jeremy agreed. “Michael, you and Lindsay are fucking perfect for each other. You know that!”

To his surprise, Michael snorted. 

“She’s perfect for me,” he replied. “I’ve felt the same doubt as you, Jeremy. It’s… overwhelming, sometimes. Having a feeling of not being good enough. It can creep up like this darkness in the back of your mind – a darkness that’s hard to push back.”

“Lindsay thinks the world of you,” Jeremy argued, and Michael smiled.

“I know. And I know most of what I think are just my own insecurities I still need to work on. But that doesn’t mean I don’t stop feeling the way I do sometimes.” He put a hand on Jeremy’s knee. “You know what always keeps my head above water, though? You guys. I know I can count on you guys no matter what shit is going on in my head. Same goes for you, same goes for Ryan. I think it’s about time we reminded him of that fact, Fredo’s right.”

Jeremy found it hard to be as sure. He was going to voice his doubts but before he could utter another word there were a pair of arms wrapping themselves around him tightly, and then a head resting on his shoulder, a warm and close comfort. 

“Doubt is okay. Doubt isn’t the opposite of believing in something. It’s just an element of it,” Alfredo added. “That’s what Geoff says, I mean, he was talking about basketball at the time, when his team was on a losing streak, but I think it means the same whatever you’re talking about.”

“I just want to help,” Jeremy murmured. “I just need _answers_. I’m proud of the relationship we have… I want to fight for it, if I have to.”

Michael nodded. There was a comfortable silence, and then he was also wrapping Jeremy in a hug, a part of him also needing reassurance, even after all these years. How many years had Michael and Lindsay been together? Nine, ten, maybe more? His parents had been married for over thirty. He wanted that. Ryan was the first and only person he’d ever truly loved, and if he lost him it would be his world gone.

These past weeks had been a dismal reminder of how Ryan had acted around them in the early stages of their relationship. Back then, however, it had felt like the world was on their side. That they were meant to be. Now it felt like everything was moving against them. 

No, not everyone. 

_Look at all you’ve got. There’s two people right here who would give their lives for you and Ryan. Each with their own pain, their own love, willing to share and open up in order to make you stronger._  

_You can do it. You can’t run now. The others will help you. The seven of you, together._

_So it feels the world’s against you? Well, the world can go fuck itself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the later update again! Just been super busy lately. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter!


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